Only Hope
by Mystic83
Summary: FINISHED! Sydney is trying to settle into her new life with her husband and her soontobe born child while still working in her mother’s organization. A new Rambaldi prophecy and the search for her missing sister should shake things up…
1. A New Way of Life

Sydney groaned as the alarm on the table next to her began ringing loudly. She was way too tired to get up and save the country for another day. Six straight months of having that be on her agenda every single day had finally gotten to her. She just wanted to sleep a full night for just once in her life.

"I am not getting up," she grumbled just loud enough so that the man next to her could hear.

"You have to get up, Syd. Will needs you to talk him through his mission today," Sark said, reaching out to gently touch her belly. "You and I both know if you don't, Tippin's liable to get himself killed."

She grunted roughly and did her best to sit up. "I'm getting a little tired of this rivalry you and Will have going. You both play for the same side now. Grow up and accept the fact that if things had started out differently, you two would have been practically best friends because you're so damn similar!"

Sark sat up in bed. "Are you mad at me or is that just the hormones talking?"

"You better watch what you say," she said, glaring at him. "It might be a little too early to be waking up, but it's never too early for me to launch into a speech about what you did to me." She pointed to her stomach for emphasis.

"How is little Sydney doing?" he asked while standing up and slipping on a pair of boxer shorts.

"What makes you so sure our baby is a girl?"

"I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders. "Isn't there some sort of prophecy saying that the first child of the almighty woman on Page 47 is to be made in her vision? To me, that screams daughter."

"Let's pray to god that our days of dealing with prophecies are over. We'll have enough on our plates just trying to keep this kid from following her mommy and daddy's footsteps."

"You don't want her becoming a spy?" Sydney shot him a look that made him pause in his attempts to get dressed and burst out laughing. "I take that as a no then."

"Our daughter should not be subjected to the horrors that we've had to go through just to have semi-normal lives. Now get up. Tippin's waiting."

Sydney groaned and walked over to the bathroom. "I thought there was something in our deal about not having to work if we didn't want to."

"Your mother reminds both of us constantly that she only agreed to not send us out on missions if we didn't approve. We didn't throw in a clause about assignments that required us to stay in. It should have been obvious when Irina agreed so quickly to our conditions that she already knew a few loopholes to exploit."

After leaving the bathroom, Sydney grabbed an earpiece off of a dresser and flicked it on. "Connect me to the channel Agent Three is operating on."

A short wait and a click later, she heard Will's voice coming back at her. "So, you finally got up, huh?"

"Sorry. I'm pregnant."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Where are you, Will? I didn't even remember you were on assignment until my husband used you as a reason to get me out of bed."

"Algeria. I'm in the airport waiting to board a plane back to the States."

"I thought I was supposed to be guiding you through a mission, not filling up your layover time at an airport." Sydney noticed Sark stiffen at her words and look her way. This was not the standard procedure when either one of them guided another agent through tough situations that require aide from an outside source. She tried not to focus on his reaction but gave her undivided attention to Will. Something was not right.

"The information practically fell into my lap when I got off the plane. Which of course made me leery of the whole operation. So I'm headed home as soon as I can get a flight back to the States."

"What did you find?"

"This channel is not secure," he said bluntly.

"What are you talking about? My mother personally set up this communication system. It's impenetrable, and if she knew you thought otherwise, you wouldn't have a job."

"Sydney, what I found out is too important to chance that there might even be the slightest leak. It's the kind of news you should be used to hearing by now, though. If your mother knew that I was spouting out that kind of intel over any sort of outside connection, then she'd definitely fire me."

"Okay. So when should we expect you at the airport?"

"In about ten hours. I need someone to be there to greet me in case I have followers."

"I can send Sark."

"I know you can. But I think you should be the one."

"This sounds like a set-up, and I'm not too comfortable with that."

"I'm not scary, brainwashed Will anymore, Syd. You need to trust me."

"I do. It's just I don't see why it has to be me, especially since you're carrying such important information. You need someone who will move on it fast, and that's not me in this present state."

"Because it would make sense that I was rushing home to be with my pregnant wife who is about to have our baby rather than to an man I have an abhorrence for."

She threw up her hands in submission. "Fine. I'll see you at LAX in ten hours."

"Going radio silent until I'm back to base. Three out."

"Four out," Sydney said, putting the comm back down onto the table in front of her. She turned to her husband. "How did he convince me to do that?"

"He must have been taking notes all those years with you as a best friend. You're the master at getting people to do what you want them to."

"I need to get to the airport in about ten hours. Do you think I'll make it in time?"

"Not if you don't get dressed sometime soon." Sark smiled at her as he walked over to the door. "I have a briefing with Anna about her current operation in France. She's going to let me know what the French government has been hiding from us recently. It shouldn't take that long."

"We won't set a time for lunch then. I don't want you calling your meeting short just so you can see me." She smirked at him. "You've done that too many times already this week."

"You're an addiction, Sydney Lazarey." He shut the door lightly behind himself.

* * *

Sydney stood at the arrivals gate, patiently waiting for Will. The plane had been docked for a solid ten minutes before people started filtering out of the plane. They had stopped filtering out two minutes ago. There was still no sign of Will. It took all her control not to go barreling down the hallway and onto the plane to search for him herself.

She tapped her ear lightly to activate the comm channel. "Base Ops. Did Agent Three contact you with changes to his mission?"

"No, Four. Everything should be as scheduled."

"He hasn't gotten off the plane." She caught a flash of something odd out of her right eye. "I think something is wrong. He hasn't gotten off the plane. In fact, I don't think he was on this plane to begin with."

"Hold tight. We'll send in back up."  
  
"It will be too late," she said before switching off her comm. There was no need to broadcast any more. Her mother would kill her for this later, though.

She drew her sidearm out of her coat pocket and slowly made her way through the crowded concourse to the area that had attracted her attention. There were quite a few aspects to this situation that just didn't make sense. If Will hadn't been on the plane from Algeria, then he wasn't even in the airport. But Sydney had a strong gut feeling that he was around somewhere and she just had to find him.

So, if Will was in the airport somewhere, how had he gotten off the plane without her seeing? It seemed to her like he would have had to be taken by force since he wasn't a small man. She would have seen something like that.

Determined to follow her instincts, she caught sight of someone running through a door marked Personnel Only. Without a thought, she followed the mystery person through the door. On the other side was something she did not expect.

Will was leaning up against the far wall, badly bruised and assaulted.

"Will," she hissed, running towards him. She didn't think to check the room for other occupants, but luckily, there were none. "What the hell happened?"

"The children of the prophecy," he mumbled. "They're after the children."

"What children?" Sydney held Will's chin so that he looked her in the eye. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"We have to protect them." Will's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he lost consciousness.

Sydney activated her comm and shouted that she needed a secure ambulance as soon as possible. She kept her hand steadily on his pulse to make sure that he wasn't slipping into a worse state. It stayed steady, and she found comfort in the fact that he had become such a fighter over the years.

The medics arrived within minutes and demanded that she let them assume control. After asking them a million questions for her own reassurance, she allowed them to check on her friend. Then, she finagled her way into being allowed to ride in the ambulance all the way to the hospital

She was left standing in the lobby when they reached their destination. The doctor said he had spoken with her mother and the paramedics. He understood the sensitive nature of this situation and the full scope of what had probably happened.

"Is he going to be all right?" she asked. In her opinion, this was the only thing that mattered at the moment.

"He seems to have been through a lot, Miss Thorne." Sydney didn't flinch at the use of one of her aliases. Irina wouldn't have given away anything to reveal either her true identity or Will's. "In all likelihood, he'll be in a exhaustion-induced coma for at least the next day if not longer."

"How can you know that already?"

"I deal with traumas like these all the time."

Sydney took a deep breath and grabbed the doctor's arm roughly. "I need him to wake up as soon as possible. He had something to tell me that sounded really important. If I don't find out what exactly that was, other people's lives could be in danger."

In the back of her head, she felt herself finally admit that it wasn't other's people's safety she was worried for this time. She had a nagging suspicion that the only true victim in this new crisis would be the small child she was carrying inside her.


	2. Waiting

Sark came rushing into the hospital the first second he could tear himself away from his briefing with Anna Espinosa. His wife needed him. He could just feel it. Which is why he didn't waste time calling in to their communication dispatcher to hear about the situation more than the bare bones. Will Tippin might be hurt, but it was actually his wife he worried about most.

"Syd!" he yelled as he saw her sitting on one of the couches in the lounge. "How is Will doing?"

"He hasn't woken up yet. The doctors gave him some kind of drug to keep him in a coma. They think that it will reduce the trauma to his brain he sustaining during the… the… beating." Sydney's throat closed sharply as she thought of the way Will had looked when she found him.

"I know what you're thinking," Sark said, sitting down next to her and placing his hand on her thigh in a show of comfort. "You think that if it had been another agent meeting him, this wouldn't have happened."

"How was I supposed to help him in any way? I'm nine months pregnant! It shouldn't have been me on this assignment. I shouldn't have agreed to go out into the field."

"You may have saved his life, Syd. You were there when he needed someone to find him. You got him medical attention, and you were there to hear what he wanted to report back to us."

"It made no sense. He was mumbling about the children of the prophecy. Have we ever heard about any children being spoken of in Rambaldi's works?"

"No, I don't recall anything either. There has to be something, though. I mean, Rambaldi had all these premonitions centuries ago. If the prophecy is out there, we'll find it." Sark drew his cell phone out of his coat pocket. "I'll call Noah. I think he's back at base ops. He can get a jump-start on the research. If there is an undiscovered prophecy, we'll find it."

Sydney smiled at him. She always felt more reassured when Sark was there beside her. Whatever came up, he always had a plan. "I guess it's something that comes naturally when you get married to a man," she thought to herself as she watched him bark orders to Noah. He never really got on too well with the rest of the male agents in her mother's organization, but that was nothing new. Sark was a "ladies man" through and through.

"What do we do while we're waiting?" she asked him once he had gotten off the phone.

"I don't know." He smirked at her. "Wait, I guess." He touched her stomach lightly. "Maybe hope the kid holds herself in there for a few more days until we get this mess straightened out a little more."

"If she's as stubborn as her parents, she'll probably want to come out at the most inopportune time."

"So you admit that it's a girl?"

"I'm leaning that way," Sydney said, smiling.

Sark grabbed her hand and drew her to her feet. "We can't just sit around here, doing nothing, though. Let's go over what Will managed to tell you before he passed out."

"He said something about the children of the prophecy. Someone is after these children."

"Children plural?"

"Yeah. I have a bad feeling that one of them is our baby, but I can't imagine who else Rambaldi would have drawn into this mess." She saw a light bulb go off in Sark's face. "What?"

"Maybe Rambaldi isn't pulling in new players. Maybe he's referring to old ones."

"I don't understand."

"Maybe it's another prophecy about you and your sister." Sydney stiffened slightly. She had just found out a few months earlier that her mother had had another child with that monster, Arvin Sloane. They still hadn't located Nadia Santos, but everyone agreed they were getting closer to finding her. "You could be the children of the prophecy."

"I don't think so. In the government's opinion, I'm already classified as the woman in the prophecy. I doubt that Rambaldi would start throwing around double classifications."

He nodded in agreement. "And there's already a prophecy about you two fighting to the death or something."

"I know. That's a whole other issue, Julian. I mean, why can't we seem to find my sister? It's incredibly important so where is she?"

Sark grasped her hand as they walked out of the automatic doors in the hospital entrance and out into the sunlight. "I know that you really want to meet Nadia, and we're trying."

"It's not just that. If I don't know what she looks like, if I don't know who she is, how can I keep myself from killing her?" Sydney paused and looked over at him. "I refuse to believe that I will end up killing my own flesh and blood just to further Rambaldi's plan."

"He's never been wrong. And Nadia's father is Arvin Sloane. She might not be like you, Syd. You might be forced to kill her in the line of duty."

"I don't know if I can."

"Let's not worry about that now. We haven't even narrowed our search down to one continent. It's not the time to be working through these issues. Let's just go for a walk and then we'll return to help Noah in his search for more information."

* * *

The baby kicked hard, jolting Sydney awake. She had fallen asleep researching for the fourth day in a row. No one had made any sort of measurable headway into figuring out whether there was an undiscovered prophecy. There was no reference to it in any of the Rambaldi texts her mother had accumulated over the years, and the Internet wasn't that much help. All Noah could find on it were a few vague references to a conspiracy theory involving a group of children raised to be spies since they were little.

Sark had joked about Project Christmas finally getting some PR.

Her mother had also agreed with her that this prophecy probably had nothing to do with Sydney and Nadia themselves, but it definitely might be a reference to Sydney and Sark's unborn child.

They were waiting for Will to wake up so he can confirm or deny their suspicions. The only problem was the doctors were still hesitant to pull him out of the coma, fearing that he might not be able to pull himself the little bit of the way to consciousness that he had to.

"How are you holding up?" Noah asked as he entered the room.

"I'm okay," she said with a half-hearted smile. "When did you get back?"

"I've been on base for an hour or so debriefing Irina on the newest developments with Will. Which are none."

"How's Amy holding up?" she said, referring to Noah's girlfriend and Will's sister.

"Not so good. She's a little pissed off at her brother for getting himself in this situation. I don't think she's ever been comfortable with the idea that her brother is an agent, too." Noah sighed and took a seat next to Sydney. "So, tell me the truth. What's really bugging you?"

"It's something Will said to me before he passed out. He mentioned the children of the prophecy. But then he said we had to protect them. It was almost as if he was inferring that we already knew them and protecting them wouldn't be such a hard thing to do."

"So, if we know them, why can't we figure out who they are?" he said, voicing the question Sydney had been dancing around.

"I know it's my child," she said abruptly. "The way things go, it had to be my baby."

"I wish I could reassure you that it wasn't. But I think all signs point to yes on this one, Syd. Things just don't run smoothly for you, do they?"

"If they did, I'd probably be lounging with you on some deserted island right now raising our brood of children and hating you for making me give up this exciting life."

Noah laughed. "It's good to hear that you're still mad at me."

"Oh come on! Who hides secret messages in junk e-mail? That was the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard of, and I've heard of quite a few, Noah Hicks."

He patted her lightly on the head and got up to grab a book off the shelf. "Have you tried speaking with our contact in the Italian government about whether they know of a Rambaldi prophecy like the one we're searching for?"

"First off, they did not want to speak with me at all. It was quite rude." Sydney sighed. "But after a few negotiations they admitted to having no clue about a children of the prophecy type document coming out of Rambaldi's life."

"Figures." Noah's cell phone rang, interrupting what he was about to say. "Two here. What's the news?" After a few seconds, he flipped his phone shut. "Will's waking up."


	3. A WakeUp Call

Sydney wasn't surprised to find a small group of people gathering in the hallway right outside Will's hospital room. She had driven there almost immediately with Noah, but first she had called Sark to find out that he was already on his way. Their communication system at the base of operations was one of the best and fastest in the world.

Anna Espinosa was talking softly with Irina in one of the corners, obviously about something to do with the work she had just finished up in France. Sydney had found it comforting that Anna had opted to come out of her deep cover to return home to help with the newly surfaced problem. Their team had become an effortless machine, the best in the whole world at what they did. More importantly, over the past six months, they had become a family. A family that she was proud to be the keystone of.

Amy stepped out of the room and shut the door softly behind them. She gave Noah a small smile and began to explain. "The doctors pulled him out of the coma an hour ago. He woke up just fine, and it looks like there won't be any lasting damage. They instructed me to not let him be excited, but I understand that he has information that you need right now. In fact, he's been adamantly demanding to see Sydney since the moment he woke up. "

"He was always partial to you," Sark joked.

"I understand that this is a conflict of interest between your agency's top secret status and my affiliation with the CIA. Therefore, I'm going down to the restaurant on the corner where I will be having an hour-long lunch. When I get back, I expect none of you to be here and Will to be resting peacefully."

"I'll come with you to get food," Noah volunteered. "I can be briefed later."

Amy smiled at them all. "It means a lot to me and Will to have you here." She nodded and walked down the hallways away from the crowd, hand in hand with Noah.

Sydney waited until they were out of sight before turning to her mother. "Should I go in alone or should you all come with me?"

"I think Anna and I will stay out here and use the time to discuss the new prospects created by her work in France. You take Julian in there with you. Don't upset Will. He's been through a lot."

"I wasn't planning on it," Sydney said, slightly hurt by her mother's words.

Irina smiled and turned her gaze towards Sark. "I wasn't referring to you, sweetheart."

"I might be a complete bastard at times, but I'm not unfeeling," Sark stated.

"Just behave yourself." Irina turned her attention back towards Anna.

Sydney looked over at her husband. "Shall we?"

With a nod, they both entered the hospital room. Will was sitting up on his bed, staring out the window. He turned towards them as Sark cleared his throat. "Hi," he said simply, smiling at them.

"Hey," Sydney said. She walked over and took a seat on the side of the hospital bed. "How are you feeling?" "Never better. Thanks for being there for me, Syd." "I wasn't that good. I mean, if it had been one of the other agents, you probably wouldn't have--" 

Will cut her off. "Don't go there. I don't care what the rational thinking might be in this situation. If my life is in trouble, I wouldn't want any other person coming to me aid." He smirked. "Even if all you can do is waddle and point a gun. How is the baby doing?"

"She's a fighter like her mom. There has been non-stop kicking all morning."

"The Bristow genes at work."

The room fell silent as they all began to think of the same thing. Will needed to relive whatever had happened to him, and it wasn't going to be easy.

"The children of the prophecy," Sark stated, getting the ball rolling.

"Let me start at the beginning. When I got off the plan, I was supposed to meet a contact that would help me develop a cover for my assignment. Instead of handing me a fake passport and a rundown of the current situation, he handed me a box."

"What was in the box?"

"A piece of parchment similar to the one Sydney recovered from Sloane's home. Rambaldi had a prophecy that it seems he kept mostly to himself to the extent that he had it hidden away when he died. It was recovered by my contact on his previous mission, and he wasn't sure what to do with it. He knew that Irina Derevko was always a collector of Rambaldi artifacts, so he was offering it to her as an act of good faith."

"You have the parchment?" Sydney asked.

"No. It was taken from me when my plane landed in L.A."

"But you read it before you put it away for the flight," Sark stated. 

"As a safety precaution, I did. I almost wish I didn't. It would be better if you didn't have to be worried about this, Syd."

"I think it would be better if I knew the danger that was ahead." She looked her oldest friend in the eye. "It has something to do with my baby, doesn't it?"  
  
"Yes, it does. It said that there was going to be a confrontation between the children of the prophecy. This confrontation would bring about Rambaldi's endgame, whatever that is. Like all of his other prophecies, it was extremely vague on the details. However, it did mention rather clearly that one of the children would be the direct offspring of the women of the prophecy and her greatest adversary."

"That would be me," Sark said with a grin. "I always knew that you had met your match in me."

Sydney rolled her eyes. "Could we focus please? The life of our firstborn child is in jeopardy here."

"The prophecy didn't mention who the other children were or how many of them there are. My first thought was there might be some Project: Christmas like operation out there somewhere. Then I wondered what exactly Rambaldi meant by confrontation. It could either be a fight to the death kind of confrontation or just a straightforward meeting. Personally, I'm hoping he was just insinuating that your child would be meeting with the others of the prophecy at one specific moment that was pivotal to Rambaldi's plan. But that makes no sense in the long run."

"Hold on," Sark said. "I think I'm recalling something that should help us put some of the pieces together. Syd, do you remember what I said to you when you didn't want to leave me behind on our rescue mission of Michael Vaughn's son?"

"You said that Tyler was more important than either one of us. Do you think he's involved in this prophecy?"

"I told you that I had heard that the Covenant believed Tyler Vaughn to be the key to some prophecy. Things were just as vague with that intel as they are now with this new development. Except there was one thing I knew for sure. There was another half to the prophecy that neither I nor the Covenant knew."

"You said you thought there was someone else they wanted."

"Right. But they hadn't made a move towards trying to get their hands on another person." Sark looked at his wife. "They didn't make a move, Sydney, because the person didn't exist yet. Our child wasn't born."

"There's one problem to that theory," Will pointed out. "You saved Tyler Vaughn's life almost one year ago. At that time the Covenant knew about the prophecy involving Tyler and one other person. It couldn't be linked with Rambaldi's children of the prophecy. It was just unveiled a few days ago."

"The Covenant was always more powerful than anyone ever gave them credit for. Is it possible that the reason no one had discovered this Rambaldi prophecy was because the Covenant didn't want them to?" Sark asked. "My theory is the Covenant was holding this prophecy hostage and they made a mistake. They lost it, and your contact found it, Tippin." 

"It makes sense," Sydney pointed out. "Rambaldi doesn't like to pull new figures into his prophecy. He would want to stick with the old players. Tyler and my child are the next generation of the old players. They would be the ones that the Covenant and Rambaldi would want."

Will looked over at her. "So what do we do now?"

Sydney was about to answer when she felt a twinge in her belly. Her forehead wrinkled in concentration as a realization dawned on her. "For now, we get a nurse." She glanced at her husband. "I'm having the baby."

* * *

The labor went rather well compared to the average. Not for the first time in her life, Sydney was glad that she had a high threshold for tolerating pain. She had made it through the first ten hours of labor without screaming once. Sark had stood by her side through the whole thing, doing his best to help ease her pain and let her know how much he loved her.

When she reached her fifteenth hour of labor without much progress and still without showing any sign of pain, the doctor suggested that Sark take a few minutes break to clear his head so that he come back into the room fresh-minded. He initially refused, but when the doctor assured him that no woman had ever had a baby in just five minutes, he reluctantly left the room.

He took the first chair he could find outside the delivery room and put his head between his hands.

"Is everything all right?" Anna asked, sitting down beside him.

"I didn't hear you coming," he said, looking over at her. 

"And that makes me worried. In all the time we've known each other, Julian, you've never let your guard down. Not once. So, I ask again, is everything all right?"

"As much as it can be, yes." He sighed. "I can see how hard this is on her, Anna. She's in so much pain, and she's being so brave."

"Sydney is a strong woman."

"I've never been this scared in my life. It's been fifteen hours, and nothing has happened. The doctor keeps telling me that everything is going just as planned, but I can tell he's lying. Something's wrong and no one wants to let me know."

"Honestly, if something was wrong, they would tell you."

"I can't lose her, Anna."

"You won't."

"You can't assure me of that. Women die from complications during childbirth all the time."

Anna nodded. "I know. But those women aren't your wife. She would never let something as silly as childbirth kill her. The only way Sydney Bristow is going to die is in her sleep from old age. Now you need to stop being a complete wimp and go back to your wife. Don't let her see the worry on your face because there's really no need for it. Everything will be fine, you moron."

"I love you," he said, smiling at her.

"I know. Now go."

Sark entered the room and immediately noticed the flurry of activity. "What's going on?" he demanded to the first person he made eye contact with.

"Your wife's finally ready to have the baby, Mr. Lazarey. It should be any moment now."

Sark raced to Sydney's side and smiled. "You always have to make everything so dramatic, don't you?" She didn't respond. She just reached out and grasped his hand with hers as tightly as she could. He lighted smoothed her hair with his free hand. "I'm here, Syd. Why don't you let me be the strong one for once?"

Without a word, she finally let loose a scream of pain.

One hour later, Sark was staring down at his baby daughter who was calmly lying on her mother's breast. He was awed by the fact that he could be so scared and so excited at the same time.

Sydney looked up at him and smiled. "I want to call her Hope."

"Hope," Sark said, running the name over his tongue. "I like that."

"Hope Anastasia Lazarey."

His heart jumped slightly. "My mother's name?"

"It seemed fitting. Plus, I think it gives it a nice exotic flair." She laughed. "And I couldn't name her Irina. My mother has a big enough head as it is."

He turned to his daughter. "What do you think, Hope? Is that a good name?" She cooed softly at her father. "Yeah, I think she likes it."

"Will you do me a favor, Julian?" she asked.

Her serious tone made him frown slightly. "Anything you want."

"Promise me that you'll make sure no one moves on the new intel Will gave us until I get out of the hospital. I have this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that I should be the one handling this situation."

"Don't lie. You're just a control freak." He smiled at her. "But I promise all the same. We'll wait until you come home before taking the next step. For now, you need to get some rest. Let me have Hope."

Reluctantly, she let him take their daughter out of her arms. "Are you sure you can handle her?"

"I'm going to have to get used to handling her. I mean, these are the easy years. She hasn't discovered boys yet."

Sydney groaned. "I don't even want to think about that yet. It's going to take all our strength just to keep her from falling in love with a guy just like her father. My daughter will not be marrying a schmuck like I did."

He laughed. "Get some rest, darling. I will see you in a few hours."

Since she was thoroughly exhausted, it didn't take much for her to slip into unconsciousness. Sark sat down in the chair next to the bed. He knew that he should probably go take Hope down to the nurses and let them do another check on her. But, at the moment, all he really wanted to do was just sit there holding her in his arms.

"I think your mother was dead on with your name, my little Hope."


	4. The Parents of the Prophecy

There was a soft knock on the front door of the Vaughns' house. "I'll get it!" Five-year-old Tyler Vaughn screamed, racing through the halls. It seemed like they never got any visitors, so answering the door was an incredibly exciting thing for him

His father's voice bellowed down the hall. "Don't you dare answer that door without knowing who it is!"

The young boy skidded to a stop and peeked out the side curtains. "It's Aunt Syd," he screamed back, waiting for approval.

His mother stepped out of the kitchen, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at her son seriously. "What did we tell you about answering the door when it's your Aunt Syd?"

"That I can say hello to her through the door but I'm not allowed to open it until one of you is here."

"And why is that?" Vaughn asked, joining his wife and son in the front hallway.

"Because nothing is what it seems when it comes to Aunt Syd," he recited. He really had no idea what that meant, but he had learned that it was something really important to his Mom and Dad. So he followed the rule.

"Good." Lauren smiled. "Now let her in."

"Hey, Ty!" Sydney said as the door opened. "I brought you a new friend to play with." She set the child carrier down inside the front door so Tyler could get a look at the new baby. "This is Hope."

"That's a funny name for a boy," he pointed out.

Vaughn tried to hold back his laugh as he explained. "I told you before, buddy. Aunt Sydney had a little girl."

"That's sad," Tyler said, looking back at Sydney with a frown on his face.

"Why?" she asked, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Because girls are icky."

Lauren wasn't as strong as Sydney. She laughed loudly and picked up her son into her arms, tickling him. "Do you think I'm icky, little man?"

When she set him down after a moment, he explained, "No. Moms aren't icky."

Vaughn patted his son on the head. "Why don't you go in the other room and play for a bit while your Mom and I talk to Aunt Syd?"

Tyler was more than happy to comply. Soon, Sydney was sitting down in the living room with two people she hadn't spoken to in six months. They had parted ways in mutual agreeance that they wouldn't contact each other until there was a good reason. There were too many unanswered questions and risks.

"What brings you to our doorstep unannounced, Sydney?" Lauren asked.

"It's your son again."

"I thought the risk to him was over," Vaughn said. It didn't surprise him that Sydney's visit was connected to his son somehow.

"We all know that we never really got to the bottom of why your son was kidnapped and why the Covenant felt it necessary to combine your DNA with Emma Wallace's in the first place. There are a lot of unanswered questions." She took a deep breath. "But I think that I can answer a few of them now."

"What happened?" Lauren asked.

"I can't tell you a whole lot of the details officially, seeing as how my job is once again a complete secret. I thought I was over that whole phase in my life, but it turns out I'm not." She smiled, realizing she was going off on a tangent. "Listen. I need you guys to not speak a word of the sensitive aspects of my explanation to anyone outside this room. I trust you."

"With good reason," Vaughn said.

"We would never do anything to compromise you or your family," Lauren added.

"I know. Which is why I'm going to tell you that Will was on a mission a week ago, and he ran into some new intel on a Rambaldi prophecy no one had been aware of."

"The one that Sark thought Tyler was involved in?" Vaughn guessed.

"Exactly. It mentioned children of the prophecy, and we're fairly certain that Tyler is one of them."

"How many are there?"

"We think only two. Which would explain why Tyler managed to get away from the people who were holding him."

Vaughn held up his hand. "I don't understand."

"They weren't concerned about keeping Tyler in custody because they started their plans a little ahead of schedule. Six months to be exact." Sydney couldn't help but smile down at her daughter. This whole mom thing was still new to her. It almost made her forget about the impending problems looming over her head and the heads of all the people she trusted.

"You mean your daughter?" Lauren asked, noticing the destination of Sydney's glance. "She's the other child in the prophecy?"

"She was actually the only one we managed to confirm. Rambaldi's prophecy detailed the first child as being the offspring of the women from the prophecy and her greatest adversary. So, that basically means Hope. For anyone with access to Rambaldi's work, Tyler was the one in question the whole time. The prophecy is vague at a lot of points." Sydney looked at Vaughn. "I came here to let you know Tyler might be in danger again."

"They're going to try to take him," he said, nodding his head in understanding. "I won't let that happen."

"I figured as much." Sydney reached into her purse and withdrew a slip of paper. "I talked to my father. He's arranged some time away from the CIA and NSC for you two. This is an address to a safehouse if you feel you need to move."

"Wait," Lauren said, holding up her hand. Vaughn grabbed the paper and leaned back in his chair, not opening it up to look inside. "There has to be more to the prophecy if things are already this serious."

"There is more. We're not sure how to interpret it quite yet, but I can assure you that there is no one better in the world to be doing this job."

Vaughn asked an obvious question, "You keep referring to we, but you haven't told us who we is. Obviously, Will is involved, but there's more, isn't there?"

Sydney sighed. Vaughn had always had the uncanny ability to tell when she was holding something back. Figuring it was best to answer Lauren's question first, she took a deep breath and dove in. "The Rambaldi document prophesized that there would be a confrontation between the children of the prophecy. It didn't give a specific time or date that this would happen. We don't even know what Rambaldi meant by confrontation."

"There's that we again," Vaughn said, rolling his eyes.

Sydney realized there was no way to dance around the subject. She would have to tell Vaughn and Lauren about what she had been involved in the past six months. "You know that I'm working in the spy world again."

"Correct. I just don't know who you're working for or what you've been doing." He shrugged. "It's a new thing for me not to know what's going on with you.""He hasn't adjusted well," Lauren said with a laugh.

"Well, I've been working for a new US government agency. Basically, it's a legitimate SD-6."

"Black ops?"

"Yeah. It's fairly small comparatively. Intimate, I guess you could say. There are only five agents."

"You, Sark, Will," Vaughn listed.

"Anna Espinosa and Noah Hicks," she said, filling in the gaps

"All the old gang," Lauren said with another laugh. It was a nervous habit of hers, and she really hated it.

"Yeah, my mother used the little situation with Sark from six months ago to further her agenda."

"What does your mother have to do with this?" Vaughn asked.

Sydney braced herself. "She's running the organization."

"No way!" he screamed. "There is no way the United States government would give any sort of power to Irina Derevko. She was on the most wanted list not even seven months ago."

"But she's not anymore," Sydney pointed out. "Did you ever wonder why?" That shut him up rather quickly. "Believe me, I was skeptical of her intentions at first. But I truly believe my mother is doing what she wants to be doing. There isn't anything brewing under the surface of her motives."

"That you know of."

"That I know of." She looked at Vaughn intently. "Think of it in a positive way. Because of my mother, you have five of the best agents out there today working on keeping Tyler from harm."

"She has a point," Lauren said, resting her hand on Vaughn's knee in support. "This is probably the best situation we could have hoped for."

"If you call our son being hunted down a good situation." Vaughn looked down at the piece of paper Sydney had handed him. "How far away is this safehouse?"

"Not even half an hour out of the city. It wouldn't be that much of a shift for Tyler. And it's only temporary. Once we figure out more about the prophecy, we can all return to our normal lives."

"What's a prophecy?" Tyler asked from where he was standing in the doorway.

Sydney seized the opportunity to sneak out on this parent to son explanation session. She stood up, grabbing Hope's carrier where she was sleeping soundly. "I should be going. There's research to be done." She paused when she was next to Tyler. "It was nice to see you again, Ty."

"When are you going to come back, Aunt Syd?"

"I think you and I will be seeing each other soon." She looked back at Lauren and Vaughn. "Please trust me."

"I do," Vaughn said, smiling weakly. "I'll call you when we're at the location."

"You probably won't need to," she said, cryptically, before leaving their home. It was a habit she had picked up gradually from her mother.

A few minutes later, she had placed her daughter into the backseat of her car, which was parked by the curb at the end of the driveway. She slid into the front seat and turned to her husband. "That went well."

"I still don't see why you wouldn't let me come in with you." Sark turned the key in the ignition.

"Did you want to get shot on the spot?"

"Michael Vaughn does not still hate me."

Sydney snorted. "He doesn't like you." She looked over her shoulder one last time to make sure Hope was secured in the back seat. "They're going to the address I gave them."

"Good," he said shortly, signaling a left-hand turn.

To a normal person, it would have appeared like he was just concentration on driving. But Sydney knew him a little better than that. "What's bothering you?"

"I'm still not sure if involving Lauren and Vaughn in this was the best decision."

"It's their son's life that's in question," Sydney pointed out. "As parents, they have a right to voice their opinion in all of this."

"But it's also our daughter mixed up in all this. We have to look out for what's best for her, too." He glanced over at his wife. "If the confrontation Rambaldi prophesized is to be taken in its more literal, violent sense, then letting Hope spend any time around Tyler Vaughn might be a mistake. I don't want our daughter to be hurt."

"She won't be," Sydney insisted. "I'm worried, too, Julian. But I don't think this prophecy is as straightforward as you're afraid it might be."

"Nothing ever is." Sark took a right, and they were on their way to the safehouse Jack had acquired for the children of the prophecy.


	5. Safehouse

"I can't stop pacing," Sydney said, throwing her hands into the air. She chanced a small glance out the window and was not surprised to see no movement at all outside. "Why am I so nervous?"

"Because you're about to do the impossible?" Sark volunteered from his position holding his daughter on the couch. He was half ignoring his wife, knowing that she just needed to reason a few things out aloud and then would return to her normal self.

"It is impossible, isn't it? I mean, where did I come off thinking this was going to work?"

Sark almost laughed. He knew exactly where she was coming from. Sydney had a penchant for achieving the unachievable. This situation, though, it might be pushing the envelope.

Michael and Lauren Vaughn were currently on their way to the safe house with their son Tyler sleeping in the backseat. Like Sydney had instructed, they waited until the dead of night to leave their house. What they hadn't been told was the small fact that Sydney expected them to live with her husband and daughter in this obscure cabin right outside Los Angeles. Not exactly a detail she should have left out, in his opinion.

"They'll deal with it once you explain," he said finally.

"I don't know how to explain." She was about to go on when she heard the sounds of a car door opening. Her body automatically froze up. It suddenly occurred to her that she wasn't ready for this. There hadn't been enough time to prepare.

Sark just sat bouncing Hope a little in an effort to get her to giggle at him. He wasn't concerned with Michael Vaughn. The man always seemed to step in line when it came to Sydney. And this new addition to his life was so fascinating that nothing could tear his attention away from her.

It was this sight that Vaughn first saw when he carried his sleeping son through the front door. "Hello," he said, not knowing what else to do.

"Go put Tyler to sleep. I gave him the second bedroom on the left upstairs. I'll explain when he's all settled," Sydney said. She turned to her husband. "I think you should go try to get Hope to go to sleep in her room, too, Julian."

Knowing that now was not the time to argue, he simply nodded and stood up to follow her suggestion. When he passed by her side, he leaned in to whisper, "Don't think I don't know that you're trying to get rid of me."

Sydney waited patiently for Vaughn to return in the living room with Lauren, who had been trailing behind her husband. "I'm glad you trusted me enough to show up," Sydney said after a moment of silence.

"We discussed if we should first," Lauren answered honestly. "We weren't sure if we could believe you. I mean, the idea of Irina working legitimately for the US government and employing her daughter and the man she raised as a son thereby thrusting the two people who mean the most to her into danger on a daily basis? Come on. That's not exactly believable."

"You have a point. Sometimes I wake up and don't even believe it myself."

They lapsed into silence again until Vaughn came back into the room. "So, what are you doing here with your daughter?"

Sydney decided to go for the ripping-the-band-aid-off-in-one-big-thrust approach. "We're going to be living in the safe house with you."

"We as if you, Sark, and Hope?" Lauren asked.

"Yes. We're really not sure what to do with Tyler and Hope until we've realized more about this Rambaldi prophecy. They both need protection, and it will be easier to do if there are four of us here."

"A good point," Vaughn said. "But do you actually believe that Julian Lazarey and I can live in peace under the same roof?"

"You're going to have to," Lauren interjected before Sydney could respond. "We don't have any other choice. We need to keep Tyler safe. If Sydney thinks this is the best option, then it must be."

Vaughn nodded, agreeing with his wife's logic. He would demand more explanation later when he wasn't so confused. "Aren't you worried that keeping Tyler and Hope in the same place is going to hurt the situation?"

"I've worried about that in a hundred different ways. The worst being that I'm afraid that we might just be feeding into what the prophecy wants. If it means something bad will happen when the children of the prophecy meet, having them live together will speed up the process."

"Then wouldn't the wise decision be to keep them apart?" Lauren asked.

Vaughn placed his hand on his wife's arm. "I think that Sydney's decided the four of us together should be able to keep both children safe. But I can't keep myself from thinking that we're giving our enemies a two-for-one deal on the kidnapping issue."

"No one will be kidnapping my daughter anytime soon," Sark said from the doorway. "And since keeping her safe involves keeping your son safe, no one will be touching him either."

He walked into a room and took a seat on the arm of Sydney's chair. It was a small habit of his to keep himself in a position that allows a full scan of the room at all times. "What do we do now?" he asked.

"Yeah," Lauren turned to Sydney. "We can't just sit here twiddling our thumbs."

"We're not," Sydney explained. "The four of us are going to work as quickly as we can from this location to figure out why Rambaldi is messing with our lives once more."

"Shouldn't that be hard?" Vaughn said, looking at his surroundings. "This isn't exactly the Rotunda."

"It's better," Sydney said with a smirk. "This place is one of my father's personal safehouses. He stocked it himself personally."

"Where do we start first?" Lauren asked, sighing loudly.

"We start with studying the actual wording of the prophecy. We need to figure out first what he meant by confrontation. I want to know if this is something we should be preventing or encouraging. I mean, we're not even sure if Rambaldi is working against us."

Sark laughed lightly and, when his wife sent him a familiar look, he went on to explain. "You talk of Rambaldi as if he is currently alive to make your life hell."

"It feels like he is," Sydney shot back.

"But he's not alive. He died centuries ago. Granted he left a rather horrible plan behind in terms of your life. But he's not around. Whatever he planned can be stopped because he's not here to make sure it goes off without a hitch."

Lauren stood up suddenly. "Enough talking. Let's get this started so we can return to our normal lives as quickly as possible."

"There's a computer terminal you can use in the other room." Sydney pointed to her left. "You can start checking out some of your NSC sources. Maybe there's some information out there that I'm not privy to. It's worth a shot."

Lauren nodded and left the room without another word.

Vaughn's eyes met Sark's from across the room. Without another word, he followed his wife, standing up and walking into the next room.

"You're right," Sark said with a chuckle. "He does still hate me. This should be fun."

"You do realize that we might be stuck here for a long while," Sydney pointed out. "There's really no information out there yet. It might take months for something new to emerge."

"It will happen eventually. And you and I are perfectly capable of running our normal lives while at this safehouse. Multitasking was always your thing when you were doing that double agent thing."

"Well, it should be getting a lot harder now that we have a daughter. We have to start thinking of her first rather than only worrying about satisfying our lust for action."

"I think we'll be fine," Sark said, standing up. "You should call your mother. Let her know that all six of us are here safely. And ask her if there's anything she needs us to do from our current house arrest position."

Sydney nodded. She actually had a whole list of people she needed to talk with. Her mother and father being at the top. Then there was the call to Will to make sure that he was fully recovered. She also had to make sure that Dixon understood that Vaughn and Lauren might not be on active status for quite a while. Not to mention the endless list of phone calls to her old contacts to see if they knew anything about the Rambaldi prophecy that was currently messing with her life.

It practically made her head ache just thinking about it.

Before she could lift a hand, her cell phone began to ring loudly. Picking it up as quickly as she could so that Hope wouldn't be awoken, she hissed "Bristow" into her end.

"Are you all moved in?" Irina asked on the other end.

"Yes, Mom. I was about to call you and let you know. But your impatience must have gotten the best of you."  
  
"I was never a fan of waiting." Irina sighed. "Plus, I wanted to let you know that your father and I are getting nowhere. There's no mention of any new Rambaldi information on the black market. It's almost as if someone made the whole thing up."

"Could someone have?"

"I wouldn't put it past a person. You have rubbed quite a few people wrong in your time as a spy."

"You've wronged three times as many people. Did it ever occur to you that they might be trying to get to you through me?"

"No way," Irina said. "Anyone who's met me wouldn't dare to hurt you in that way."

Sark walked into the room, and Sydney motioned to him who was on the other end. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the phone out of her head. "Irina, darling. We've just gotten here. Could your nagging wait a few more hours?"

"Julian. If you weren't so amusing to me, I would have you killed."

"You could try."

"And I'd succeed," she said assuredly. "You take care of my granddaughter."

"I will. She and her mother are the only good things in my life. I wouldn't lose them if it was a matter of life or death."

"Good. Listen, Julian. I was going to tell Sydney this, but I'm not sure if she could handle it right now. She's still emotional from realizing that her daughter's life might be as turbulent as her own has been." Irina paused. "It's highly likely that the search for some truth in this mess is going to take longer than anyone thought."

"How long?" he said, making sure not to look at Sydney.

"Years."

"I see. And during that time?"

"I will try to figure out as much work as I can for you to do. But it's likely that protecting your daughter will occupy most of your time."

"And what about the fact that she is to reside in the same house as Tyler Vaughn?" Sydney sent him a strange look at his mention of Tyler's name, but he ignored her once more.

"I didn't think it was a wise decision until we were sure that this confrontation is a positive thing. Unfortunately, her father thought otherwise."

"You let him win an argument?"

"I chose my battles. This was not one worth fighting."

"But you think the arrangement should have to be changed once information is found?"

"I think that neither Michael Vaughn nor his young son should really have any connection to my daughter. It seems like her life is always better during times like those."

He grinned wickedly at Sydney as he made his next comment. "She would be quite angry if she knew that you thought that."

"Be a dear, Julian, and don't tell her."

"I can't lie to my wife, Irina."

"Yes, you can. You're just afraid of what will happen if she finds out that you've been lying."

"Absolutely."

"Good." Irina hung up abruptly.

Sark lowered the cell phone and handed it back to Sydney. "What did my mother want?" she asked.

"She wanted to know that I'm aware of what's being asked of me."

"And what exactly is being asked of you?"

"Protection. A defense of what is mine."

"Hope and myself?"

He nodded. "This situation might not resolve itself quickly, Sydney."

"I know."

Sark sighed and stood up. "No, I really don't think you do, darling. But you will soon."

She scowled as she watched him leave the room. Why did he always have to act so smug and informed? It was his most irritating quality. The thing that made her most angry was the fact that somewhere deep inside of her she knew that he was right. It was going to take a long, long time to work through this mess. If it was the last thing she did, though, her daughter would live a normal life without feeling like a pawn.


	6. Trouble In Kinda Sorta Paradise

After checking on her daughter, Sydney made her way out to the front porch where Vaughn was waiting patiently for her. "You needed to talk to me?"

"I can't do this, Syd."

"Can't do what?"

"Live here for an undefined amount of time with that man." Vaughn's gaze shifted to where Sark was currently playing catch with his son. "He's starting to corrupt my child."

"Stop being foolish, Michael," Sydney said, taking a seat on the chair next to his. "We've been here for all of two weeks. He's done nothing to you."

"Except goad me into an argument at every turn."

Sydney laughed. "You're an easy target. He can't help it."

"What happened to you? The Sydney I knew would have killed that man at the drop of a hat."

"I love him," she answered simply. "And you'll learn to tolerate him. There's nothing we can do about the situation until more information is known."

Sark came running over to the lounging couple with Tyler Vaughn on his heels. "Your son already has a pretty good arm, Vaughn. I'm quite surprised."

Vaughn just gave him a glare and turned his attention to his son. "How about you and I go inside, Ty, and see what your mom is cooking up in the kitchen?" Tyler nodded emphatically, sure that he had smelled cookies a few minutes earlier.

Once Vaughn had left, Sark pulled Sydney up out of her chair, sat down in it, and pulled her back down into his lap. "It seems you and I can't get a moment of alone time since we had our daughter." He sighed. "And it isn't even Hope doing all the interrupting."

"I know it's hard on you to live with the Vaughns. But it really shows that I was right about there being a good man inside you somewhere."

"That remains to be seen. I might end up killing the man of the family before nightfall." He leaned in to kiss his wife lightly on the back of her neck.

"Just don't get any blood on the carpet. It's a pain to get out." She pulled herself up off his lap and started to walk into the yard.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

She turned around to see him pouting and fought the urge to laugh. "I was going to walk around the house."

"To scan for threats."

"My mother said that there might be people trying to get at us."

"Do you really think they're going to be coming for us so soon? We've only been here two weeks."

"I know. I guess you can say it's my motherly instinct rearing its ugly head. I just… want… to… be… sure." Her voice faded off at the end of her sentence as her eye caught on something.

Sark got up off the chair and walked over to her side. "What is it, Syd?"

"I don't know. I just got a bad feeling. Like there's something going on around us that we don't know about." Sydney caught a flash of something out of the corner of her eye. She continued to act nonchalant while muttering under her breath, "Over there by the trees."

"Go inside and get the children," Sark said. He was already reaching into his pocket for his gun.

Sydney didn't argue but gave him a small kiss on the cheek to keep up appearances of normality and made her way into the house. She chanced a small glance out of the first window she passed and saw her husband standing in the same spot she left him while scanning the distance.

"Michael! Lauren!" she called out.

"We're in the kitchen, Syd," she heard Vaughn yell back.

Already climbing the stairs to get her daughter, she called down, "Could you get Tyler and meet me in the basement? My husband is working on a little piece of business out in the yard, and I thought now might be a good time to discuss what we're going to do later today."

She could hear a hesitation in the reply. Obviously Lauren and Vaughn were dissecting what she was saying. If she thought it was safe, she would have just yelled to them that there were intruders somewhere out in the forest. However that would only work on the fairly large assumption that these people had not gotten close to the house and bugged it sometime earlier.

"Sounds fine. We'll just grab some cookies and meet you down there," Lauren finally said.

Sydney let out a deep breath, glad that they understood what she had been saying, and leaned down to scoop her daughter out of the crib. "Shhh, Hope. It's okay. Mommy's just going to take you to somewhere we know you'll be safe. And then I'm going to go find Daddy and do a little work." She sighed. "Mommy just loves it when the work follows her home, doesn't she?"

She made her way down to the basement, taking the time to shut the door behind her entirely. She handed her daughter off to Lauren after she had descended down the stairs. Checking to make sure the soundproofing system was working correctly, she turned to explain. "I saw something suspicious out in the yard. My parents warned me that people might figure out our location. Sark is checking it out. Watch Hope and Tyler. Worst case scenario, get them in a car and get out of here. We'll all get in contact later. They are our top priority in this." She grabbed a couple guns out of a locked cabinet on the wall and turned to her housemates. "Don't do anything stupid."

"The same goes for you," Lauren said, bouncing little Hope lightly.

Sydney nodded and made her way back up the stairs. Activating the multiple locks on the door, she checked the window. Sark wasn't standing still anymore. He was hustling his way across the yard. Knowing that whatever was going on she couldn't be a part of at this moment, she walked around the house checking the situation from all the windows.

A creak in the living room floorboards put her on edge. She pushed herself up against the wall and slowly peaked around the corner. There were two men in all black gear making their way towards her. Not only that, but they appeared rather heavily armed.

"Who do they think they're coming after?" she thought to herself. They were just four grown-ups and two children, not an army.

Guessing now was better than later, she entered the room, taking a quick shot at the first man and connecting with his knee. She aimed a kick at the second man and felt his face through the sole of her shoe. By that time, the first man had recovered and fired a few shots at her.

"Can't you give me a break?" she screamed. "I just gave birth to my daughter three weeks ago. I'm not in the best shape." When the man laughed at her, she punched him hard in the face, knocking him out cold. "Though I guess you could say I'm in good enough shape."

She was turning to look at the other man when she heard the distinct sound of a safety being clicked off.

"I wouldn't move if you want to make it out of this alive, Miss Bristow."

Catching something rather interesting in the mirror, she held her hands up in the air without hesitation. "You know, I really thought I kicked you a lot harder than that."

"You must be losing your edge."

"Must be," she said with a knowing grin.

A shot rang out through the house, and she watched the man holding a gun on her crumple to the floor. Her husband was standing over his limp body.

"Where have you been?"

He leaned over the man and drew out another gun from his belt. "I wouldn't have waited so long if I knew that your ass needed saving."

"I would have figured out something. Is that a new model?"

"I think so," he said, slipping it into the holster he had on. "We can try it out later. Right now we have a problem."

She sighed. "What now?"

"There are at least twenty men outside. I took out a few of them, but that's about all I could manage without alerting them to my presence. We're going to need Lauren and Vaughn on this one."

"We can't. They're watching the children. It's just you and me."

He nodded. "At least I know my daughter is safe."

Sydney looked around to check out of the window. Sure enough, there were a handful of men making their way towards the house. "You mean you actually trust Vaughn with your daughter?"

Sark grinned at her. "He's growing on me."

They silently worked their way through the house and exited the back door into the yard. Once they were safely hidden by the cover of trees, Sark leaned in to his wife. "I set up a few surprises. Be mindful of yourself."

Before she could question him as to what he meant, there was an explosion from about fifty yards east of them. Two seconds later, there was another one coming from the west and one from the front yard.

"I guess that narrows down the odds," he said with a laugh.

"What did you do?" she said as they began to advance to the sights of the explosions.

"I used my time wisely as always, darling. Managed to set up a few motion-censored mines while decreasing their ranks all before coming to rescue you."

"A man who can multi-task, I like that." She stopped and began to walk in the opposite direction of Sark. "I'll go this way while you continue on. Meet me in the front of the house."

Sark nodded and blew his wife a kiss. "You're such a sap," she hissed at him as she ran off.

While he meticulously picked off the remaining agents, he thought that comment over in his head. He had become a little soft the past few years. Most of it could be attributed to Sydney, but a portion of it was by his choosing. He hadn't really liked the hardened person he had become since adolescence. He had seen many men his age grow up with happiness in their eyes and hearts, always wondering why he couldn't have the same privilege.

And then Sydney came along. With some out of this world persistence, she convinced him that he might have missed his first chance at that happiness, but she was personally there to deliver a second. He hadn't believed her at first, except she kept coming back until he would admit she was right.

He would love her to the end of time for that.

Sitting down on the front porch stairs, he waited for his wife to join him.

Thankfully, she didn't leave him in suspense for long. He had been sitting down for less than a minute when she came jogging around the opposite side of the house. "All clear on my end."

"Mine, too." He motioned for her to sit down. "How many did you see?"

"Five were killed by your explosion. I got three myself."

"There were nine that I saw, so that makes twenty." He sighed and stood up. "All clear. Let's go inside and put our daughter back to bed."

Sydney stood up. "I should probably be appalled that we're so calm about this situation."

"We've discussed this before, love. We're not normal people."

She laughed at him and held the door open. "No, we're not. One more attack like this and we'll probably have to relocate."

"That's okay. There's plenty of safehouses all across the country with our names on it." He locked the door behind her the second she stepped inside.

"Something tells me that we're not going to perform our usual jobs at our respected agencies for quite a while."

"That's an understatement."

Sydney disengaged the locks on the basement door. "You can bring the children up whenever you want. It's all clear." Smiling she turned to her husband. "Would you go outside and do something about the bodies for now? I'll send Michael out to help you as soon as we can afford to. Then I'll call my father. He'll figure out what to do with the bodies after you've hidden them."

"You've become cold, my darling."

"I guess you're wearing off on me."

He grabbed her and pushed her up against the wall. "Don't ever talk like that. And don't lie to me. I can see your every thought in your eyes. You don't have to hide the fact that you're appalled at what you've become. But remember, Sydney. You did what was necessary to keep your child safe. Every person has a right to fight for the ones they love."

She nodded and wiped the tears that had begun to fall off of her cheek. "I love you."

"And I love you. Now go get our child from Lauren, and make sure she's okay." She started to walk away. "Sydney?" He saw her pause slightly before turning back to him. "It's okay to cry."

She smiled at him and nodded. "Thanks."

She descended the stairs into the basement with a heavy mind. For the first time in a long while, she felt dread when thinking about her future. This situation was going to be long and hard, emotionally, mentally, and physically. She knew that by the time it was over nothing and no one would be the same.


	7. Timeout

Sydney settled down into their brand new four bedroom house in Boise, Idaho. It wasn't really where she wanted to be, but Tempe, Piedmont, and Sacramento hadn't worked out for them. This was their fifth new home in just that many months. Like clockwork, every third week or so, someone magically discovered the location where she was and tried to either hurt one of the adults or both of the children. It was getting to be annoying.

Now Sark had some crazy scheme that he wouldn't tell her about.

That wasn't just annoying. It was downright aggravating.

She had been bugging him for days, since he decided to do whatever he was trying to do. It was almost immediately apparent to her that Sark was hiding something from her. For the first time in their relationships, he really refused to tell her what he was planning, and she couldn't think of any way to get the answers out of him. Not even overt sexual advances worked.

It was like the old Sark had decided to pay her a visit. He was conniving and manipulated of everyone just so he could fulfill this silly plan of his. She was starting to think that maybe he had gotten bored of the married life and the 1.5 kids they currently had. If she was being honest, she didn't know how he could manage to think of their life of constant moving and dodging bullets as anywhere close to boring, but it wasn't a complete impossibility.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Lauren entered the room with Sydney's six-month-old daughter in her arms. They were both bundled up for the relatively chilly day outside. Obviously, Lauren planned on going somewhere.

"Where are you going with Hope?" Sydney asked.

"We thought we'd go out and see the neighborhood's Christmas decorations," Lauren explained simply.

"We?"

Vaughn stepped into the room with Tyler. "She means the three of us and Hope. We were going to grab some dinner after it gets too cold to walk around."

"And then the new Disney movie is playing at the movie theater," Tyler said with a smile.

"Well that sounds like a fun day," Sydney said, straightening Tyler's crooked hat with love. She turned back to Lauren and gave her a funny look. "You're not evil, are you?"

Lauren smirked. "I thought about it once. Thought about betraying my husband, maybe trying to kill him. Then I might steal your husband away from you. It would all end in a brilliant gun fight to the death between the two of us." She sighed. "But then I thought do I really have that much energy? So instead I got up off the coach and got a cup of coffee."

Nodding her acceptance, she turned her attention back to Tyler's father. "I just wished someone would have run it by me before taking my daughter out of the house. I mean, it isn't like she's in constant danger of being abducted or killed, right?" Sydney slapped her hand dramatically. "Oh, that's right! She is in constant danger."

Lauren gave her a weird look before continuing on her way out the door. Vaughn leaned down to kiss Sydney lightly on the top of the head. "This whole trip was your husband's idea. We thought he would have told you."

Before Sydney had a chance to ask them to elaborate a little more, all four of her fellow housemates were out the door. "Well," she said to herself. "Now what am I supposed to do? There are no new leads on this crazy new Rambaldi prophecy for me to pursue. I haven't seen Sark in over six hours, and my child was just abducted for a day of fun."

As if answering her plea, her cell phone began to ring from the other room. She managed to hop over the stray cat that Tyler had found in the alleyway behind his new school and maneuver her way around the hundreds of still-to-be unpacked boxes without killing herself or causing anything irreversible harm. It was a feat that took all of her spy training to pull off, but she did it.

"Mountaineer… I mean Agent Bristow…. I mean Agent Four… I mean… Oh hell! This is Sydney. You better have something good for me."

"That was cute," Sark said from the other end of the line.

"Where the hell have you been all day, mister? And why didn't you tell me that you were going to have Lauren and Vaughn take our child out of this house?"

"It was a surprise."

"I don't like surprises. You know that."

"You'll like this one when you see where it's headed, love." She could practically feel him grinning widely through the phone and had to clench her hands into fist to keep from hitting something. He was so infuriating. "I left you a little surprise on the bed upstairs. I'll be home in fifteen minutes. You better be ready."

Before she could yell at him for his shady behavior, he had already hung up on her. "Well, Mr. Rude, I don't think I'm going to play your little game," she yelled at the dial tone. She threw her phone at the couch which it bounced off of and hit the floor.

She crossed her arms and stared out the window, determined to know the very second he pulled into their driveway. Within seconds, her curiosity had gotten the better for her, and she was racing up the stairs to the bedroom she shared with Sark.

Sitting there on the bed was the prettiest red dress she had ever seen. She reached out to touch it and practically fainted when she felt the soft silk material. There was a rather expensive looking necklace and a matching pair of earrings next to the dress. She didn't know when he had found time to sneak away and buy this stuff, but it seemed like her husband hadn't lost his taste in clothing or jewelry.

"He really doesn't change," she said with a laugh, picking the dress up. She was going to have to hurry if she was to be ready when he got home in ten minutes.

* * *

Sark walked up the front walkway to their front door. He had tried to take the long way home but found that he really couldn't put off seeing how Sydney looked in the short little dress he had bought her the day before any longer than he already had. When he saw it on the mannequin in the dress shop window, he knew that it had been made for his wife. 

"Sydney, I'm home," he yelled, walking into the kitchen and setting his packages down on the floor. He turned just in time to see her descending the staircase. "Wow."

She smiled at him, glee at his reaction apparent in her eyes. "Really?"

"That dress looks twice as beautiful on then I thought it would."

"Thank you," she said with a smile. She walked over next to him and got on her tiptoes to give him a small peck on the lips. "It was really nice of you."

"I try," he said, unpacking the bags he had brought it.

"The only problem is you forgot to get me shoes to match the dress."

"You don't need shoes," he said without looking up at her.

She walked around to stand between her husband and his unpacking job. "What do you mean I don't need shoes? Of course I need shoes."

"Not where we're going," he said, lightly pushing her out of the way.

"That's the real question now, isn't it, Julian? Where are we going with me dressed up in this skimpy red dress and no shoes?"

He finally looked up at her and smiled slightly. "Nowhere. We're staying right here."

She raised her eyebrows at him in shock. "Really?"

"I had some of your favorite food brought in to the city for you." He gestured to the boxes he had been unpacking.

"Shelled lobster salad. Mixed sashimi. Thai-baked sea bass. Risotto di zucchini." Her eyes caught on the last box. "Oh my god! Is that…"

"Raspberry Ripple ice cream with chocolate truffles," he finished.

"These are from the Ivy, my favorite restaurant in London. How the heck did you get all this, Julian?"

"I had it flown over." He held up his hand before she could ask him how again. "I had the chef flown over to make this all for you at one of the restaurants downtown."

"How did you get him to agree to do that?"

"I simply told him that it would make the day of his prettiest customer." Sark chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?" she asked as she began to open up all the packages.

"I hadn't even told him my name at that point. But still he said, 'Mrs. Lazarey wants it'? That man has a memory for beautiful women."

"This is so nice. It's too bad that we're going to have to rush through it if we want this placed cleaned up by the time Lauren and Vaughn get back with the children."

Sark turned and winked at her. "They're not coming back. I had them lie to you. They're seeing the new Disney movie on a CIA jet while they fly to Chicago to visit with your father. He's on a rather boring assignment and agreed seeing the children would brighten up his night. They won't be back until tomorrow evening."

"No way," Sydney said shaking her head. "There's no way you actually got us the house all to ourselves for a whole night. You're not that good. I'm not even that good."

Sark just continued to smile at her. He put the ice cream into the freezer and closed up the packages she had opened in her excitement. "Let's go eat." He grabbed a few of the boxes and, placing his hand on the small of her back, led her into the living room.

She stared in awe. The room was lit only by the massive fire roaring in the fireplace on the one wall. "How did you find the time to start a fire?"

"You might not be that good, but I am," he assured her. "Now stopped trying to be polite and feminine. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're dying to dig into this food."

She nodded with excitement and ripped open the first box. "I still can't believe you had all this flown in on a whim."

Sark gave her a strange look. "Not on a whim, Syd. I've been planning this for a while."

"How could you?" she said, not really paying much attention to him as all her focus was on the delicacies in front of her. "You didn't even know that we were going to be living in Boise or at least that we would still be living there when you found time to pull this off."

"You really have no idea why I'm surprising you with all this?" He shook his head as she looked up at him in puzzlement. "Unbelievable. You are so the man in this relationship." He sighed when she continued to look at him in confusion. "What's today's date?"

"December 15th…" Her voice faded off as she realized what she had just said. "Oh god! Today's our one year anniversary."

"Bingo. Finally you put two and two together." He took the wine glass out of her hand and set it down on the fireplace hearth. "Good thing that you look sexy enough in that dress to keep me from getting mad." He reached up and touched the side of her face gently. It surprised him when Sydney shrugged away from his touch. "What's wrong?"

"I can't believe I forgot our wedding day. It's only been three-hundred-sixty-five days, and I've already forgotten the most important day of my life."

Sark grabbed her arms forcefully and pulled her in so close that she found herself sitting on his lap. "I love you, Sydney Lazarey. No matter how many anniversaries you forget along the years, and trust me there will be plenty of anniversaries in our marriage to forget, the fact that I worship every single thing about you won't change. You are my world."

She leaned back against him. "I don't know why you put up with me."

"Did you hear any of the things I just said?" He kissed her lightly on the top of the head while she lazily stroked where his hands were entwined and resting on her stomach.

"I know. It's just that our life is pure chaos again because of me. I keep wondering how many apocalypses and certain death situations it's going to take for you to realize your mistake and run away screaming."

He pulled away slightly so that he could maneuver himself to look into her eyes. "I will never run screaming from you. No matter how many horrible situations we, and I do mean we, find ourselves in, I will be there right back your side. We need each other, Sydney. If you've learned nothing else in the past few years, you should have learned that. I can't survive without you, and you can't survive without me."

She pulled him into a kiss roughly, taking him by surprise when she used her tongue to force his lips open and gain entry into his mouth. He could feel her pulse speed up where his hands grasped her wrists. It didn't surprise him that she was beating in the same fast rhythm as his own heart.

Feeling his hands let go of her slowly and work their way to the straps of her dress, she pulled back. "You sure know how to sweet talk a girl, Julian."

"I always knew how to make you hot."

She shook her head. "No, this is new. Usually it takes you and me in a life-threatening situation to get me going. I seem to remember our first time together."

"That nightclub in Paris," Sark said, the memories of taking her forcefully on that bathroom counter flashing through his head.

"Not exactly the train car in Kiev or that park in Milan, but still a good memory." She stood up and took a step back from him as she slowly pushed the straps of the dress off her shoulders and let the dress pool into a puddle on the floor. Sark swallowed loudly as he realized that she hadn't been wearing a single piece of clothing underneath the dress the whole time he had been home. He couldn't figure out why he was sweating so much all of the sudden.

"So, tiger, let's not waste anymore time now that we have the house to ourselves." She bent her finger and motioned for him to come close.

Without another thought to their past or future, dwelling completely in the present, he got up and pulled her up off the floor. She wrapped her naked legs around his waist and let him carry her up the stairs and into their bedroom. When he set her down on the bed, she looked up at him and smiled. "I've missed you, Julian."

"I never went anywhere, but I know what you mean."

She grabbed his tied forcefully and pulled him down on top of her. "Now shut up and have your way with me."

"Wish granted," he said, leaning down to try to take her to places they hadn't even dared to venture yet.


	8. Denver, CO

Hope Lazarey did not like Denver, Colorado. It was too cold and snowy. She would have much rather been in her last home in Las Vegas. That was fun. There were bright lights everywhere, and it always seemed to be Halloween. There was always some man dressing up like his wife. Her mom had told her not to talk to those people.

"Honey," Sydney said, watching her daughter stare out the window. "We're going to have cake in a few minutes. It's your favorite. Polka dot cake with chocolate icing. I mean, it's not everyday you turn six."

"I wish I were older," she said simply, still staring out the window.

Sydney sat down next to her daughter. "Why, honey?"

"Because then maybe Tyler would be nice to me."

"He's nice to you."

"Only when you or Daddy or his parents are around."

She pulled her daughter into her lap. "I think it has nothing to do with you, Hope. Boys aren't always fond of girls. It's also been really hard on the two of you. I mean, each one of you is all the other one has. Everything changes except the fact that you're together."

"He told me yesterday that soon you were going to let him stay in one place and that he wouldn't have to find a new home like the rest of us."

"We've talked about it. He's getting pretty big. He deserves to not move around a lot."

"I like moving around."

"I know you do, honey."

"Only I wish we didn't have to move to such a cold place."

"Is my kid complaining again?" Sark said from the doorway. "What did I tell you about complaining?"

"Only do it when wrapping someone around your finger," she recited. "How'd I do, Mommy?"

Sydney smiled at her husband. "You had me going."

Sark entered the room and scooped the little girl up into his arms. "Cake time," he called in a booming voice as he slung her onto his shoulder and made his way downstairs. Halfway down the stairs, his daughter wiggled out of his arms and went racing into the kitchen. Sydney reached out and touched Sark's upper arm softy to keep him from following.

"Is something wrong, Syd?" he asked, the worry evident on his face.

"No. I'm just doubting out decision to keep Hope so secluded. She hasn't had the normal benefits most girls have in growing up."

"She's not like most girls. Besides, she always says moving around a lot is what she wants to do."

Sydney smiled. "I think that might have a lot to do with the fact that Tyler Vaughn has to move everywhere that we do."

Their very rare alone time was interrupted by a call from the bottom of the stairs. "Are you coming?" their daughter yelled.

"Looks like she waited for us," Sark said with a laugh. He rushed down the stairs and swept her back up into his arms. "You know I'd never pass up cake. Especially when your mommy made it."

The three Vaughns were standing in the kitchen already, waiting, when the trio entered the room. Sark placed his daughter softly on the floor. She immediately cowered behind his legs. "Hi, Tyler," Hope said shyly, poking her head out slightly from behind her father.

Sydney tried her best to keep from laughing. It was clear to anyone watching that her little baby was currently experiencing her first crush. It would have been completely sweet if she wasn't still concerned about keeping the two of them emotionally detached from each other.

In the six years they had been moving around, not much progress had been made on deciphering Rambaldi's new mystery prophecy. They still didn't know what kind of confrontation the prophecy was referring to, and all four of the parents were still leery of their current position residing together under one roof. Keeping the two children together might be the biggest mistake they could be making.

On a good note, they had a lot of visitors in their various homes throughout the six years they had been shifting from place to place. Will and his sister were constantly coming in to take the place of either the two Lazareys or the Vaughns when they were needed for missions. Both couples were definitely a lot less involved in the spy world than they once had been, but sometimes situations would arise that only they were equipped to handle. Plus, as Hope's grandparents were always quick to point out, it was keeping them sane and keeping their contacts open.

On a sadder note, so much had changed in Sydney's life, and she hadn't been there to witness it. Her mother's black ops organization in the US government was a staple of their national security plan. It was pretty much the pinnacle that new agents strove to be a part of. For most, it was an urban myth, this deep secret organization that even most high-ranking officials in the US government didn't know about. But, still, she was constantly hearing stories from her father about the CIA rookies who thought they might someday be an agent of this secret sect. Jack said he didn't have the heart to let them know that Irina only wanted a handful of agents.

Her father was practically running the L.A. branch of CIA along with Dixon. Sydney had been proud when he finally told her he had accepted the responsibility of this position. He had been qualified to take it for so long. Now it seemed he had finally given up his loose cannon status and accepted the idea that he wasn't a young agent anymore. Another change at that branch was the fact Carrie and Marshall were now expecting their third child. Little Mitch and Casey would have a little brother in just a few months.

Her fellow agents in her mother's organization had spread themselves across the globe. Will had met the curator of the British Museum and was currently operating out of London. Her mother had him doing most of their European reconnaissance. Anna was situated in South America, working undercover with one of Columbia's drug lords.

She had missed witnessing all of that. Will and Amy kept her updated through phone calls and e-mails every week. The only event in her life she hadn't missed was Amy's wedding to Noah. She had told her father that there was no way she was going to not attend and he would just have to figure out a way to get her there without compromising anyone's security issues. Since he was Jack Bristow, that wasn't much of a problem.

Amy and Noah had reminded her of her own relationship with a spy working for the other side. Sark always liked to tease her that she had made an honest man out of the most despicable spy ever born. It was something she had failed to do when she loved Noah. Much to her delight, Amy Tippin seemed to be succeeding where she had failed.

While Sydney was reflecting back upon the last six years and all the things she had missed, Sark was busy watching his daughter blow out all six of her candles.

This little ball of energy had become his whole world. He would never have dreamed he would meet another female that he would love more than his wife, but he had. This little girl made him feel almost like a normal man.

He would never admit it, but he was scared to death about what this Rambaldi prophecy might hold for her future. He didn't want this old Italian nut to dictate Hope's life like he had done her mother's. It had torn Sydney in two more than once. He wouldn't let the same happen to his pride and joy.

Hope smiled up at her father, and he felt his heart melt. He probably would have scooped her up into his arms and hugged her as tightly as he could if his cell phone hadn't begun to ring in that exact moment. Looking down at the ID, he both smiled and frowned. "It's Irina," he said to everyone since they all seemed to have frozen at the sound of the intrusion. "Probably just calling to make sure her daughter didn't botch up the cake recipe." He winced as Sydney playfully punched him in the arm. "Excuse me for a moment."

"Julian," Irina said briskly as soon as he had walked into the other room and answered the call. "I can't explain, but I need you to get Sydney and Hope on the first plane out of Colorado this instance. Book seats on a flight to Seattle, Washington. Someone will meet you at the Sea-Tac airport. Don't argue with me on this one. Just do it."

Used to her spontaneously barking orders at him, he wasn't thrown off an inch. "Has there been a development?"

"Yes. You don't have time to talk to me about it."

"Okay. What about the Vaughns?"

"Leave them in Denver. Jack will be in contact with them soon."

Sark snapped the phone shut, took a quick deep breath, and ran back into the other room. All eyes were on him. "Well, Hope. Looks like Grandma was listening to you when you said you didn't want to stay in Denver. She wants us to move to Seattle, Washington."

"That's where we lived last year," Hope pointed out. It was odd. They never went back to the places they had already been.

"Now?" Sydney asked.

He nodded and turned to Vaughn. "Irina said that you need to stay here. It seemed important. Jack will be calling you soon to let you know what he can."

"They're separating us," Lauren said, the dread clear in her voice. "They figured something out."

Tyler threw his hands up into the air. "I guess this means that I'm not going to be allowed to stay in one place like you promised." Lauren just shot him a look. "You guys always go back on your promises," he screamed before running out of the room.

"Sometimes I really wish he were still a toddler," Vaughn said. "Lauren and I will deal with ironing out that situation while we wait for Jack to call. You two need to get out of here."

Sark nodded. "My guess is that our fears were right this whole time. Tyler and Hope shouldn't have been together."

Sydney ran upstairs with Lauren in tow to pack as quickly as possible. "I hate to just rush out of here. Hope and Tyler should have time to say goodbye."

Lauren threw a handful of Sark's clothes into the open suitcase on the bed. "I don't think there's much time. In fact, if they weren't supposed to be around one another, it might be best for everyone if they each just forget that the other existed."

"Good point." Sydney threw a few more clothes on top and zipped the case closed.

Sark popped his head into the door. "Hope's all packed. Confused and crying, but packed. Are you ready?"

Sydney grabbed the suitcase off the bed. "Ready." She pulled Lauren into a hug. "Goodbye."

Sark was standing at the bottom of the stairs with Hope in his arms and a suitcase in his free hand. Tyler and Vaughn were standing next to him with their typical worried faces on. Sydney quickly gave both men quick hugs. "Well, at least we had a little bit of fun with our dysfunctional family."

"That's an understatement," Vaughn said with a laugh. He put his hand on his son's shoulders. "Say goodbye, Ty."

"Goodbye," the young boy said. He really was turning out rather shy, Sydney thought as she shut the door behind her husband and daughter. He barely said two words in the same minute to her the whole six years they had been living together, excluding his little outburst in the kitchen when he realized he was going to be moving again. She had no idea where he had gotten this introversion. Definitely not her daughter.

Sighing, she slid into the driver's seat and checked her husband and daughter in the backseat by their reflection in the rearview mirror. This was definitely going to be a long day.


	9. Parental Explanations

Sydney paced back and forth across the floor of the safe house they hadn't lived in for over fourteen months. All she wanted was a simple phone call explaining why she had to uproot her life for the umpteenth time. She didn't even care who it came from.

"Why aren't they calling?" she said, throwing her hands up in the air.

Sark shifted their sleeping daughter in his arms. "I don't know, Syd. Why don't you sit down with me? It's been a long day."

"Don't be condescending. I can handle this just fine with my pacing."

"I just don't want Hope to be any more upset by this than she already is."

Sydney thought over what he had just said for a moment and then nodded, taking her seat on the carpeted floor next to him. Most of her tension could be pinpointed to the fact that their instructions kept changing. First her mother said there was going to be someone they trusted to meet them at the airport. Next, her father called to say that the airport wasn't secure enough. There would be an agent in a car out front waiting to drive them to where they needed to go. Then, they got another call from her father saying that couldn't happen due to security reasons and that they were to go directly to the house they had lived in for ten months the previous year. He promised that either he or her mother would personally meet her there.

At this point she wasn't sure if she could believe him. Things were changing so quickly.

Sydney leaned her head lightly on the shoulder of her husband that was not currently occupied by her six-year-old daughter. "I just wish they would tell us what's happening."

"That can be arranged," said a voice from the doorway.

"Mom," Sydney said, jumping up and running into her mother's outstretched arms. She couldn't help feeling like a young child, but it was just as soothing as she remembered from childhood.

"Julian," Irina said, nodding to her son-in-law. "How is Hope doing?"

"Okay. She's about as confused as the rest of us, though. What's going on, Irina?"

Irina grabbed her daughter's hand and took a seat on the floor in front of Sark. "Your father and I finally found the information we've been searching for since the day Hope was born. We figured out the connotation of the prophecy and what it seems Rambaldi intended."

"Please elaborate," Sydney insisted.

"Rambaldi meant the confrontation to be in the most basic sense of the word. The two children in his prophecy would meet one day, and they would fight. It didn't specify if the children would have no knowledge of each other's existence or if they would have been familiar with one another for years. I don't think having Tyler and Hope together these six years has done too much damage."

Sark stroked the top of Hope's head lovingly. "That's good to hear. So, this confrontation, is it going to be of the fight-to-the-death variety?"

"It's looking that way," Irina said. "That part is still unclear."

Sydney held up her hand. "Before we get any further in this, I want to know something. Where did this information come from? Is the source reliable?"

"It came straight from Agent Jim Lennox. I do believe you're both familiar with him and his connection to the Markovic project. Though that's really not why he's become so invested in the safety of the children."

"Emma," Sydney whispered, her eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Emma Wallace is still an aspect of this situation that we're trying to figure out. Tyler's mother still means a lot to Lennox. He's told his officers in Fiji where he's stationed that he do anything and everything to make sure that Emma's son is safe."

"I trust him," Sydney said. She looked at Sark. "He's been through a lot."

"We've all been through a lot," he pointed out. "That doesn't mean we're all playing for the right team. This is our daughter's safety we're talking about. I'm not going to rely on some man you haven't had contact with for over ten years just because he loved some one."

Sydney rolled her eyes. "When will you ever trust my instincts?"

"When you prove to me that your instincts are right one hundred percent of the time," he answered simply.

"Moving on," Irina said, steering the subject back on track. "Agent Lennox found some contacts in Fiji who had been monitoring some of Rambaldi's work. It turns out this prophecy wasn't as secret as we first thought. These men knew about the children of the prophecy. They knew about where they had been the past six years even though we took great pains to keep you six moving."

"I thought it was practically impossible to track us with all the crazy measures and protocols you had use using."

"Your father thought so, too. Which is why when Lennox told him that it was imperative that you get out of Denver, Colorado..." Irina smiled slightly to herself. "Well, let's just say Jack was less than pleased."

"So you really believe this Lennox character?" Sark asked once again.

"He had good, solid facts to back up the information. Proof was always a good motivator in gaining my trust. Lennox showed us documents from the Covenant detailing every single location you six have stayed at throughout your years 'on the run'."

Sydney nodded. "Okay, so Lennox might be telling the truth that our operations weren't as stealthy as we would have liked. Fine. I understand that. Why separate Hope and Tyler so roughly?"

"Your father and I talked it over. The information that Lennox provided us leads us to believe that one of your children is going to end up dying at the hands of the other down the line."

"That's a strong conclusion to make," Sark pointed out. "And it's an awfully big jump. We've gone from no information that suggested they should be kept apart to information that says they're going to kill one another."

"No," Irina pointed. "Just one of them is going to be killed. That's the problem."

"I'm not following," Sydney said.

"The one that lives through the confrontation won't be the same person they were when it started. It's going to change them. They're going to become the tool Rambaldi needs to bring about his end game. The confrontation will form them into that tool."

* * *

Unlike Sark and Sydney, Michael Vaughn and his wife got information on the new developments rather quickly. Within an hour of Hope's parents' departure, Jack Bristow was standing on their front doorstep, inviting them to join him in his car.

Lauren nodded, grabbing the bags she had packed while they were waiting. When the call had come in sending the household into such a whirlwind panic, she had guessed that they wouldn't be staying in Denver for much longer.

"What's going on, Jack?" Vaughn asked immediately as the car pulled out of the driveway.

Jack didn't answer. Instead he handed Vaughn a spray.

"No," Lauren said forcefully, recognizing the spray and what Jack wanted her husband to do with it. She grabbed her son and pulled him close to her side. "I won't allow it."

Vaughn looked back at where his wife sat in the backseat and shook his head slowly. "There's a reason for it." He leaned back and sprayed his son's face with the substance before Tyler could comprehend what was happening. The young boy instantly went limp into his mother's arms. Vaughn relaxed back into his seat and looked at Jack. "There better have been a good reason why I had to drug my son."

"It would be better if he didn't hear the real reason why I'm taking you away from Denver."

"Which is?" Lauren prodded.

"The fiancé of Tyler's late mother has brought us some information that says your son is no longer safe being in close proximity to my granddaughter."

"First, I thought Jim Lennox had quit the CIA and severed all his ties he ever had with the organization," Vaughn pointed out. "Second, I find it hard to believe that your granddaughter is a threat to my son. She's a six-year-old child."

"Don't be daft," Lauren said, scowling at her husband. "She might not be a threat now. But she has some questionable blood in her. She's not a lamb." Vaughn stiffened at her comment and looked hesitantly at the man driving the car.

"I would take offense at that comment if I weren't thinking the same thing," Jack said. "If I didn't know better, I would suspect she was a part of a program to genetically create the ultimate spy. She has my blood, Irina's, Sydney's, and Sark's all mixed up into one. The thing is it's not a definite fact that she is the one posing the threat. Tyler may in fact be the threat to Hope's safety. There are a lot of things that are still unclear."

"Sounds like it," Vaughn said, dropping his head into his hands. "Why don't you tell us the few things that are clear?"

"Agent Lennox came to the CIA with information about the Rambaldi prophecy. There is a faction of the Covenant operating out of Fiji. They have discovered the context of the so-prophesized confrontation between Hope and Tyler. One of them is going to end up killing the other."

"A little more specifics on how this supposed murder is going to happen would be nice," Vaughn said.

"We don't have specifics. We're not sure if it's just going to be an accident or if one of them is going to seek out the other intending to commit murder. It's not clear."

"It better get clear," Vaughn said under his breath.

"Where are we going?" Lauren asked.

"I'm taking you to the airport. You three have seats booked on the first secure flight to Fiji."

"We're going to Fiji," Lauren said. This was definitely not an expected development.

"Yes, we'll discuss why later. For now, I want you two to understand that all preparations have been cleared through the CIA. Agent Lennox is currently working on a project for us in Fiji. You two will be able to offer him assistance in this regard, thereby staying active in the agency. It's been arranged for Tyler to get some private schooling while on the island."

"How long have you known we're going to be shipped out of the country?" Vaughn inquired.

"As soon as the decision was made, I had Irina call my daughter, and I got on a plane to retrieve you three. All the arrangements were made while I was in the air."

"Very efficient."

"I do my best." Jack pulled the car up to the curb of one of the airport terminals. He glanced at Tyler who was quickly shaking off the effects of the mild drug in his system. "It looks like Tyler is waking up. Agent Lennox will be able to answer your questions from here on out."

For the first time, Vaughn noticed the man standing on the curb where Jack had pulled up. Jim Lennox reached over and opened the back door. "I hope you guys have decided to trust me. I don't look forward to being shot at the first bump we hit."

Lauren helped her still vaguely drowsy son out of the car. She stepped out behind him and stood toe to toe with Lennox, sizing him up. "You expect a lot of bumps, Agent Lennox?"

"Nothing's sure, Mrs. Vaughn."

"Lauren," she said, with a nod of acceptance.

He smiled back at her. "Jim."

"Stop flirting with my wife," Vaughn said, stepping out of the car. He wasn't surprised when Jack immediately took off.

Lennox started walking and called over his shoulder, "Come this way."

"We need a little more explanation," Lauren objected, although she did follow him.

"Jack has arranged for us to borrow a private plane. We can talk freely when we're on board."

"I don't like this," Vaughn whispered, leaning in close to his wife.

"We're just going to have to go with it for now," she instructed softly. "Until we get more information, it seems like our best and only option."

Satisfied with his wife's reasoning, Vaughn turned his attentions back to his son. "How are you doing, Ty?"

"Okay. I can't believe I fell asleep in the car. I never do that."

"I know. It was strange." Vaughn put his arm around his son's shoulder, and the whole group walked in silence until they had exited the terminal and boarded the small jet.

Once they had all gotten settled in their seats and the plane took to the air, Lennox turned to the young boy in the seat across from him. "I'm sorry for not introducing myself before, Tyler. My name is Jim Lennox. I work for the same place as your parents."

"I know who you are," Tyler said without emotion. "You were in love with my mother."

"I still love Emma even though she's not around. She was my whole world. Imagine my surprised when I found out a few weeks ago that she had an eleven-year-old son."

"And she hasn't been around for fourteen."

"Nothing gets by you," Lennox said with a grin. "Anyway, I still miss Emma greatly. So much so that I knew I had to see her son. You have her eyes."

"My father always tells me that."

"He's right. I just had to find you, especially when I found information that I knew your parents would like to hear."

The brutal honesty of Lennox's words broke the tension in the air. Lauren gave Lennox a quick smile before turning to her son. "Why don't you go see if the pilot will show you around the cockpit? Your father and I have to talk business with Mr. Lennox here. I know how much you hate being around when we get all technical."

"Yeah, I do." Tyler unbuckled his seatbelt and was gone in a flash.

"He's a great kid," Lennox said, watching him disappear behind the curtain blocking off the cockpit. "You two did a wonderful job in raising him."

"It's been hard," Vaughn admitted. "He's not exactly the ray of sunshine that Hope Lazarey is."

"Ah. The other child of the prophecy. Sydney and Julian's daughter. I'm slightly disappointed I didn't get to meet her also. I would love to see those two raising a child. Last I heard, they hated each other with a passion."

"You've been out of the loop."

"Yes, I have been. Mostly of my own doing since my life was a shambles and I blamed it entirely on the CIA and Sydney at the time." He waved off their concerned looks. "I got over that notion years ago so don't you worry about me or my motives. Unlike half the population out there, I'm actually not trying to destroy Sydney Lazarey's life."

"So, what more do you have to tell us?" Lauren asked.

"For starters, I wanted to explain to you why Jack, Dixon, and the CIA decided to send you all the way to Fiji. Originally that wasn't your destination. They just wanted to find a place as far away from Hope Lazarey as they could. That was the best bet for the time being. So, I volunteered to have you three come back to Fiji with me. I could use help on my operation."

Lauren studied Lennox for a second before saying, "That's not the only reason you wanted us to come to Fiji."

"I want to get to know Tyler. He's a part of Emma."

"We understand that. Let's just get a few things out of the way. Tyler knows who his mom is and the service she did giving her life up for her country. He understands that a lot of what happened to her was because of his father and his Aunt Sydney. He knows that he wasn't formed out of love, seeing as his mother and I only talked a few times in passing. However, he treats my wife as his mother. He refers to her as Mom, and that's not going to change just because you've stepped into his life."

"I didn't expect it to, Agent Vaughn. I just wanted to keep the one piece of Emma I have left safe. I know I can do that if he was in Fiji with me. Plus, I think the change of atmosphere might be good for him. We won't have to keep moving him around for his safety, and maybe he can shrug off some of that introversion and shyness I detected."

"That would be a plus," Lauren mumbled.

Vaughn shook his head. "She's been worried sick about that for years."

"His self-inflicted seclusion is not healthy, Michael," she argued. "Normal children aren't afraid to string more than two words together. They aren't afraid to talk."

"He seemed fine to me when I was talking with him a few minutes ago," Lennox pointed out.

"He works well under pressure. On a daily basis, you wouldn't get half of that out of him in twice as much time." She turned back to her husband. "Fiji will be good for him. At least until we can find out more information about this stupid prophecy. Then he can decide where he wants to live instead of us dictating it to him."

Vaughn nodded. He turned back to Lennox. "So you really think that our child is either going to be a murdered or a killer's victim somewhere down the road?"

"That's what this thing points to right now. It might be a misinterpretation, but it looks like it's the only thing you guys have right now."

* * *

"I still don't see how one of these two children is going to become a cold-hearted killer," Sydney said, entering the room after she had set Hope down onto one of the beds upstairs to take a nap.

"I never said that that was the only possible outcome of this situation. It's just the most likely." Irina sighed. "It's something you're going to have to accept, Sydney."

"I don't want to accept that. It's my daughter we're talking about."

"Don't forget she's also my granddaughter. I don't want to believe that she would be anywhere near capable of taking another person's life, and there's no way any blood relative of mine would be stupid enough to allow themselves to be killed just because an old Italian prophecy says they will. But I'm trying to accept it."

"She's right," Sark said. "We have to deal with it if this is truly what Rambaldi meant."

"Fine. I'll deal with it," Sydney agreed, even though the tone of her voice said otherwise. "Why are we here in Seattle, Mom?"

"That's a quick topic change. I don't think I'm entirely convinced that you're going to accept this new development, but I'll let you get away with avoiding it for now. Your father and I decided that it would be better if Hope was taken to somewhere she was familiar with. Seattle is close enough to L.A. for you two to keep up your work with my organization, and if I recall, Hope really made friends with the kids at her school here."

"This was her second favorite home after Las Vegas," Sydney admitted.

Sark chuckled. "That was only because she liked the cross-dressers who lived down the street from us."

Irina stood up from her seat on the floor. "I want you two to make yourselves at home in this house again. Hope will be reenrolled in her school, and I'll be in constant contact with you two about missions I need you to undertake. You will live a relatively normal life until we can get more information on this prophecy. I'm not entirely satisfied with the little amount we do know."

"So the search for the truth isn't over," Sydney said.

"Far from it." Irina nodded to them. "I'll be in contact.

"Mom?" Sydney's voiced stopped her as she was about to shut the door. "Could you have Dad call me as soon as he can?"

"I'll tell him as soon as he's back from the airport."

Before Sydney could ask why he was at the airport, her mother shut the door and was gone.

"So now what do we do?" Sydney asked her husband, slumping to the ground next to where he was sitting.

"I'm not really sure," he answered, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. "We'll figure something out. We always do."


	10. LA Equals Home

Hope took a look around at her family and smiled before blowing out all ten candles of her birthday cake. This birthday was definitely a lot better than the previous ten. At least this time she was going to make sure she got her birthday wish if it was the last thing she did. She smiled again as her grandparents, her parents, her Uncle Will and Aunt Tessa, and her Aunt Amy and Uncle Noah and all of their children clapped at her accomplishment.

"So how does it feel to be a decade old?" Will asked her.

"The same as it felt to be nine and 364 days," she answered back smartly.

"You know, I think you have your mother's mouth and your father's mouth combined."

"They tell me that all the time," Hope said. "I still can't believe that you and Aunt Tessa flew in from London."

"This is a big day for you," Tessa Tippin said. "We wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"Okay, enough of that mushy talk," Noah interjected. "I say it's about time for the presents. What do you say, kid?"

"I say let's get this party started," Hope yelled.

Sydney and Sark both stood back and watched their daughter tear through each and every one of the carefully wrapped packages. They still couldn't believe how optimistic and full of joy their daughter was after all she had been through. When Irina pulled them out of Denver, Colorado five years earlier, they thought they could finally settle down in one place for a while.

The kidnapping attempts started within days of their settling in. They were forced to move yet again.

The moving hadn't stopped since that day. They knew that Hope didn't like it, but she never really complained once. Sydney was incredibly proud of her daughter in that aspect. She hadn't raised a complainer.

"So, what do you think she's going to ask for this year?" Sydney whispered in her husband's ear. She was alluding to their birthday tradition of Hope asking her parents for one thing on her birthday that they would give her no matter what.

"I would say that new skateboard, but she's about to unwrap it."

"I thought we discussed it and decided not to buy her that death contraption."

"We did. But it seems that we didn't mention that to her favorite uncle. Either that or Will chose to ignore our wishes."

Sydney sighed and leaned her head up against Sark. "I'm going to have to have a talk with him before he hightails it off this continent."

"Just don't mess up his face too much. He has a few professional meetings for Irina in the coming weeks. She'd kill you if you forced her to come up with an excuse why her agent has two black eyes."

"I'll keep the blows restricted to his body," she assured him.

"That's my girl." Sark squeezed her hand before walking over to sit next to where his daughter had just uncovered her new skateboard.

Jack seized the opportunity to have a few private words with his daughter. "How's your work been going, Sydney?"

"Not too bad. No real developments. It seems like the information brought to us by Agent Lennox five years ago is the real thing. However inadvertent, Hope is prophesized to either kill or be killed." She let her breath out in one long sigh. "You know I really thought that my contacts in Tokyo might have made some sort of headway in figuring out why the Covenant is still interested in my daughter and Tyler Vaughn."

"My best guess? They think that which ever one survives this confrontation they're going to have would make the perfect spy. Every agency out there can argue they have a stake in what happens to your child."

"That's ridiculous. And something I really shouldn't be discussing on my child's birthday."

"When is a better time to discuss it then now?" Irina said, entering the conversation. "We can't put it off. There are going to be consequences coming, and they're not that far off."

"I know that. I just still have a hard time accepting that this whole thing is real. Why can't I give my daughter the normal life I never got to live?"

"Because both of you are just too special to be normal," Jack said, hugging his daughter. "Now enough with this serious talk. I think some of your guests are leaving."

Sydney turned to see Amy and Noah herding their mass of children out the door. She waved to them and turned back to her parents. "I'm sure you two need to be leaving also. There has to be some crisis out there that's affecting national security."

"There always is," Irina said and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "I'll be in contact with you and Julian about what I need you to do next. In the meantime, keep digging for information about that Rambaldi prophecy."

Sydney nodded. Once her mother had said goodbye to Hope and left, she turned back to her father. "Any parting words, Dad?"

"No. But you seem to have something to say to me."

"I never understood how you could always tell when I was trying to hold something back. Yes, I have something to say to you. Actually, it's more like I have something to ask you. How is Tyler doing, Dad?"

"Good. He and his parents have had it a little easier than you have comparatively. They haven't really had to move around that much since we relocated them. He seems to be doing fine. He just started high school the other day in fact."

"God, he's getting old. I can't imagine Hope being old enough to attend high school."

"It's not that far off," Jack said. "I'll let Vaughn know you asked about them next time I'm in contact."

"I'd like that." Sydney waved as Will and his newlywed wife said their goodbyes to Hope.

Jack hesitated a moment before continuing, "He asks about you and Hope all the time. Mainly he just wants to be sure that you're okay."

"I bet he's worried about the time Hope and Tyler spent with one another when they were little. I know that I am. Hope doesn't really remember Tyler or either of his parents. She has vague recollections of living with another family, but we don't really talk about it."

"Maybe you should," Jack instructed. "The way you tell it, Hope used to have a fairly big crush on Michael Vaughn's son. Those things don't just disappear into thin air. Especially when he was the first boy she ever took a liking to."

"Kenny Horner," Sydney said, her mind instantly transported to another place and time.

"What?"

"Kenny Horner. He was the first boy I liked. I was four years old, and he lived next to us. I told Mom about it, and she explained to me that he was a little old for me." She chuckled. "He was sixteen."

"You always did set your sights on the unattainable."

Sydney smiled and met eyes with her husband from across the room. "Eventually, it worked, though. I think I've attained quite a lot through the years."

Jack pulled his daughter into another hug. "As long as you're happy."

Sydney rested against her father for a few minutes before pulling away. "You have to go, don't you?"

"Like you said, there's probably a threat to national security that I need to attend to. If I don't do it, nothing's done properly."

Sydney smiled and kissed her father on the cheek. "Don't be a stranger. I know I work for an intelligence agency whose existence you're not even allowed to acknowledge, but that doesn't mean you can't call every once in a while."

"I got it," Jack said. "I'll see you soon."

Before she had time to ask what that meant, Jack was out the door.

Her father was the last one to leave, and Sydney finally found herself alone with the two people she loved the most. She flung herself onto the couch next to her daughter and fingered one of the t-shirts Amy had bought her. "You got a lot of cool stuff."

"I know. It's so great. Dad's already explained to me about the necessary safety precautions when using the skateboard Uncle Will got me, so you don't have to go through that."

"Thank god," Sydney said, smiling as he husband snuggled in next to her on the couch. "Well, since we're all right here, I think it's about time that you told us your birthday wish this year, young lady."

Hope's face lighted up with excitement, and she took off out of the room, screaming back at them not to move an inch. "This worries me," Sark whispered in Sydney's ear before nibbling on it slightly.

She swatted him away. "For god's sake, it's your daughter's tenth birthday. Keep your hormones in check."

"I can't help it. You bring out the primal side of me."

Sydney heard the sounds of her daughter barreling down the stairs. "Do your best to keep it inside because Hope is coming back."

Hope ran into the room and held out the papers in her hands. "Grandpa Jack helped me with this a little. He told me to keep it a surprise until you guys asked for my wish."

Sydney reached out and took the papers, which she quickly realized were plane tickets. "Los Angeles?" she said, looking at Hope in surprise. "What do three tickets to L.A. have to do with your birthday wish?"

"I want to move back to L.A."

"What?" Sark said. "You've never lived in L.A."

"Technically, I did for the first few days after I was born. You and Mom always sound so happy when you talk about the years you live together in L.A. and New York. It was a hard decision, but I figured you'd be more willing to move from Texas to California instead of New York. Was I right?"

"We're not moving anywhere," Sydney said determinedly.

"That's what I thought you would say. Which is why I asked Grandpa Jack for help. He told me to tell you that everything's been cleared with him and Grandma. They both expect you in the next coming weeks. He found this really nice house for us to live in. Uncle Will was telling me that it's just down the street from where you used to live with him and Francie."

"Did everyone besides us know about this?"

"Well, I told you I needed help."

"You won't mind if I call my parents to make sure you're not making this up?"

Hope shook her head. "I don't care what you do as long as we move."

"You don't like Houston?" Sark asked. "You seemed happy to me."

"It's all right. The same way that Portland and Tucson and Reno and Dallas and Topeka all were. All right, but not that great. I want to live somewhere where all three of us can be happy and comfortable. I don't really understand why we've had to move so much, but I know it's mostly because of me somehow."

Sydney took a deep breath and pulled her daughter close to her. "We've been putting off talking to you about this, honey. But it's about time. Your father and I have always been trying to protect you from things outside your knowledge. We thought it was best not to burden you with things you couldn't really comprehend."

"But obviously, if you're old enough to organize a move to Los Angeles, you're old enough to hear this," Sark explained. "This Italian philosopher and inventor named Milo Rambaldi that lived over five hundred years ago. He made a lot of prophecies about things that were going to happen in your mother's life. A long time before you were born, your mother found out there was a prophecy about you."

"Really? I was in some old European guy's prophecy?"

"Yeah," Sydney said. "He said that you were going to play an important part to things that were going to happen when you were all grown-up. There are a lot of people out there who are interested in the person you're going to become someday Hope, and your father and I have been trying to protect you from some of these people."

"They're bad guys?"

"Yes, they are. We wanted to make sure that nothing bad happened to you so we kept moving to where this people wouldn't find us."

"But they always seemed to find us," Sark added on. "So we just kept moving."

"But now you've seemed to come up with a way for us to go back home, I guess."

"It took me a long time," Hope explained. "But Grandpa Jack said that there was no reason why we should be running all over the country."

"Your grandpa's a smart man," Sark said with a smile. "All right, kid. Wish granted. We'll move to L.A. as soon as we can."

"I knew you couldn't refuse," she said with a smile. "Now can I go try out my skateboard?"

It wasn't much of a request as she was already halfway out the door. "Be careful," Sydney yelled after her. Realizing there wasn't much more she could do, she settled back down into Sark's arm. "You know she got that ability to frustrate me at the drop of a hat from you."

"Yeah, I was always good at that, wasn't I?" That earned him a punch in the gut. "So, how do you feel about going back to L.A.?"

"It feels weird. After ten years of moving from safe house to safe house, I never really thought going back to the city was an option for us. It's so strange that our daughter would be the one to figure out a way."

"I think it was all just a matter of us deciding that other people weren't going to dictate our lives any longer." He laced his fingers in with hers. "We're going to be okay, Sydney."

She looked up at him and smiled. "You know, for the first time in ten years, I think I actually believe that."


	11. Fiji

Tyler Vaughn sat in front of his English tutor, wishing that his day would come to an end as soon as possible. He hated these stupid creative writing assignments his teacher kept giving him. Just because his father had taken a job at the local paper to cover-up his work with the CIA in Fiji and excelled at it didn't mean he was naturally good at writing.

"But everyone always seems to think that, don't they?" he muttered to himself.

"Did you say something, Ty?" asked the young girl beside him, diligently correcting his typos.

"Just mumbling, Elsie. So what's the verdict?"

"You are hopeless. I can't even help you fix this junk."

"Maybe I should just run away."

His best friend of four years couldn't help but laugh in his face. "Run away? Where are you going to run to?"

"America," he said stubbornly. "My home."

"Your home is in Fiji. You've been here for five years. I wish you would just give up on these dreams of returning to your 'homeland'."

He stared at her in shock. "Did you just use air quotes? Air quotes have been out of style for years now."

"I think they're vintage," she pouted.

"And, before I forget to tell you, just because your father moved you here when you were a baby doesn't mean you know everything there is to know about who belongs here and who doesn't."

"And I suppose you don't?"

"I never did, Else. Belong."

"Are you sure this doesn't have something to do with the pressures of high school? My father said that everyone freaks out a little during their freshmen year."

"Your father doesn't know everything."

"He knows a lot," she pouted.

Smiling, he poked her in the ribs. "Why don't we take a break from this and sneak out to play down by the beach?"

"I have studying to do," she protested even as he grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet. "And you should finish this paper. It's due at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

"I'll finish it after dinner. Promise. Now let's have some fun."

* * *

Lauren smiled down from the second floor as she watched her son play with his best friend. It was amazing the changes that Fiji had caused in Tyler. His introversion disappeared about fourteen months after they settled into the island. She figured it had something to do with the sensible young girl who lived next door to them. Elsie Ashmore was a godsend.

"What are you looking at?" Vaughn said, entering the room.

"Our son's happy, Michael. He's really happy."

"I know."

"How are we supposed to tell him what's going to happen to him one day? That he's destined to kill or be killed?"

"I don't know. Let's not dwell on it. I got a call from Lennox. He wants to see us in the office tomorrow morning."

"I'm getting tired of answering to that man when he keeps failing to come up with more information on our son and his connection with Rambaldi."

"Lennox is trying, Lauren. You know he is. He wants to know almost as much as we do. The man has become like an uncle to Ty. He cares for him."

"I know." Lauren laughed. "But I would classify him more as an older brother. Those two can get into some real shouting matches when they're fired up. Not exactly the uncle-nephew relationship, I think."

"I think I saw him sneaking Ty a beer last week." When he saw his wife's horrified look, he couldn't keep a straight face. "I'm kidding! Sneaking a beer to a young man is a father's job."

She smacked him really hard on the back of the head. "I have no idea why I married you, Michael."

"Sometimes I wonder." He just had time for one quick kiss before both of their beepers started to buzz. "Damnit. Lennox is always ruining our alone time."

"It's part of the job," she reminded both of them. She walked over to the door and threw Vaughn his coat which was hanging on one of the hooks. "We should move. Lennox might have made some progress."

"Doubt it," Vaughn mumbled. He followed his wife outside. "I'll start the car."

"And I'll deal with Ty," she said, rolling her eyes. She marched across the yard to the beach behind their house. "Tyler! Your father and I need to go pick up a few things at the store. Why don't you go inside and do your homework?"

"In a minute," he yelled back. He watched his mother wave and then begin to make her way back to the house.

"Your parents sure go to the store a lot," Elsie commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it seems like every time I come over, they have to pick something up at the store. Have you guys never heard of the concept of stocking up?"

"They like things fresh," Tyler answered quickly. "Now how about a swim?" He didn't wait for her answer and ran down into the waves.

The lie he told Elsie was burning in his chest. He hated having to lie to the one person besides his parents that he trusted. But his mother and father both stressed to him on a daily basis that he couldn't let anyone know that they worked for the United States government and not an accounting firm and newspaper, respectively, like everyone thought.

"When did my life become a pack of lies?" he thought as he watched Elsie shrug her shoulders and dive into the water behind him. He really hated the position his parents had put him in. At least he knew that someday he'd find a way out of Fiji. It was beautiful and all, but, like he had told his friend earlier, it had never really been home.

* * *

Vaughn drove his truck into the tunnel that had a large sign marking it closed for repairs. "You know, I would really think that someone would wonder why this tunnel has been closed for repairs for over five years now."

"Secret entrances to CIA facilities never seemed to be noticed or questioned. It's uncanny," Lauren replied smartly.

The tunnel slowly turned into the beginnings of a parking garage, and Vaughn steered the truck into the first available, close parking space. He and Lauren quickly got out of the truck and hustled their way into the facility. Jim Lennox was waiting for them, patiently leaning up against a desk.

"New development?" Lauren asked immediately.

"Sort of. Jack Bristow got in contact with me for his yearly report on the other half of the prophecy."

"You can refer to Hope by name," Vaughn said. "She is a person, not an object."

"It's best if you try to keep your relationship with her less personal," Lennox suggested. "She is going to kill your son. Or was it your son that was going to kill her?"

"You're testy today, Lennox," Lauren pointed out. "Did Jack do something to rile you up?" She looked over at her husband. "He always does that. You know he always does that. Why does he do that? Does he find it easier to do his job that way?"

"We'll never know," Vaughn replied. "So what did Jack have to say?"

"Hope and her parents are doing just fine. They're moving back to Los Angeles."

"How is that possible?"

"The person in question," he said with a snide look, "seemed to call in all the favors the different spies in her extended family owed her. Hope arranged for it to be possible."

"We're not going back, are we?" Lauren asked, puzzled as to how this could be happening. She really didn't know what this latest news was supposed to mean to her.

"No. You won't be going back. We still need to keep the two children separated."

"We can't do that forever," Vaughn pointed out. "We've only been living in Fiji for five years, and Tyler is already restless. He wants to go back to the States."

"He never mentioned anything to me."

"He hasn't said anything to us either. That doesn't mean I'm oblivious to him. He doesn't want to be in Fiji. He wants to leave."

"We can't let that happen."

"We know. It's just so hard to keep telling Tyler that he can't leave Fiji without giving him the reason why." Lauren held up her hands before Lennox could say exactly what she knew he would. He had only given her the why-we-can't-tell-him-yet speech 1897 times. "Let's drop this little dilemma for right now. Tell us about your conversation with Jack since it was important enough to call us away from our son's side today."

"He and Irina had a secret conference thing that other day, and they've decided that with the lack of new intel, we have to just sit tight on this one for at least a little while."

"Tell us something we don't know," Vaughn said, flinging up his hands.

"Jack only authorized his daughter's move to L.A. because they think that Hope is going to be the one to commit murder. He wants to keep a closer eye on her." Both Vaughn and Lauren's eyes went wide. "You wanted to hear something new."

"You're lying," Lauren whispered.

"No. Jack and Irina thought about it. The probability factor is behind their granddaughter and not your son in the killing department. And, before you say it, Vaughn, no, I don't think Tyler is the kind of person to just let himself be killed by a girl. No one knows the specifics of their confrontation, but I think there are some major twists and turns ahead that need to happen in order to allow Tyler to be killed by Hope."

"So, everyone is just giving up on the concept that my son could be a murderer someday?" Lauren asked. "Because that's not only sloppy, it's stupid."

"Hope's the more likely suspect," Vaughn said, voicing his agreement with Jack, Irina, and Lennox all at once. Lauren shot him a look that quieted the rest of his word immediately.S

"So what now?"

"Now, you two settle back into your life in Fiji. You're going to be here for at least four more years."

"Why four?" Vaughn asked Lennox.

Lennox turned and sat down at the desk, obviously about to dismiss both of the Vaughns within moments. He picked up his phone and dialed a number. Turning back, he looked at both of Tyler's parents seriously. "Because that's how long we have until we lose control of the situation. Tyler's going to graduate from high school. And when he does, he's going to decide to go off on his own path. And when that happens, I don't know what we're going to do."


	12. College

Tyler Vaughn stared at his parents out of the front window of their house on the beach in Fiji. They were doing their own landscaping, a task they insisted upon performing themselves since they moved there nine years ago. He hated having to go outside and break up the happy scene. Since his mother and father had told him about that Italian prophecy with his name written all over it on his sixteenth birthday, happy days of domestic bliss were few and far between.

He stared down at the acceptance letter to UCLA he had received in the mail the day before. It was like being able to hold all his hopes and dreams in his hands. At least all the hopes and dreams a nineteen-year-old who was doomed to die by the hands of a woman he didn't know at some point in the future could have.

"Elsie would get a kick out of my situation," he said to himself with a laugh, thinking about his best friend. As soon as her picture had popped into his head, he scolded himself. Elsie was not the person he had wanted to be dwelling on at this moment. She would hate him for leaving her in Fiji to fend for herself.

"That's not entirely true," he whispered, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "She has Derrick."

Derrick Scott had only lived on Fiji for six months, but somehow, he had gotten Elsie to fall in love with him in that little amount of time. Tyler had no idea why his incredibly intelligent and sensible friend had fallen for a large bank account and a great pair of abs. In all the years, he had known her there really hadn't been any talk of boys she was interested in in a romantic sense. And then Derrick show up, and her life suddenly revolved around his every move.

When, the night before, Elsie had hand delivered the letter she had received at her house from the Office of Admissions at UCLA because he was too scared to let his parents come even moderately close to realizing he wanted to go to college in California, she had told him the "wonderful" news.

Turns out Derrick loved her, too, and they were moving in together. He asked her what about their plans to move back to the States together, and she had just laughed, asking him if he really thought they had been serious all those years back when they had made a promise to get off the island together as soon as they had a chance.

"Don't you love it here?" he said out loud, mocking the excruciatingly happy tone she had said that in the night before. He knew that he had no right to be mad at her for wanting to stay or for finding a man she could love. But he couldn't help feeling slightly betrayed by her. Fiji was great, but it wasn't for him the way it seemed like it was for Elsie. So, he had no other choice but to leave her behind.

Again, he scolded himself for thinking about her too much. Elsie was not the real problem at hand. Growling, he pushed away from the window, opened the door, and took the first few steps on his journey back to the place he used to call home.

* * *

Neither Lauren nor Vaughn noticed their son until he was practically standing on top of them. Tyler had never made an effort to help with the yard work so his presence outside was extremely odd. That was probably the reason both of them felt their hearts freeze a little at the sight of him.

"What's wrong?" Lauren asked, setting down the rake she had been using.

He smiled at her weakly. "You're going to hate me, Mom."

"What did you break this time?" she asked. "It had better not be that new vase your grandmother sent me from Germany the other day." When he shook his head, she continued, "Who did you fight? Where did you get banned from? What law did you break? How much money is this going to cost us? Just let me know before I worry myself to death, Tyler"

Vaughn stood up and placed his hand on Lauren's shoulder. "Let our son talk, Lauren. What did you want to say, Tyler?"

"I got accepted to college," he said, holding out the letter that was still grasped in his hand. His father took it from his warily and unfolded it.

"Oxford!" Lauren squealed happily and flung her arms around her son in a hug. "That's wonderful! I knew they would take you. They had to. You're so smart."

Tyler tried to shrug away from her. "No, Mom. You don't understand."

"Neither do I," Vaughn said, holding out the letter so his wife could see the return address. "Why is this coming from UCLA? You never applied there."

"Actually, I did apply there. It turns out that I really am as smart as you guys have always been telling me. I got accepted. That's where I want to go to college, Dad."

"That's unacceptable," Vaughn said, throwing the paper onto the ground. He grabbed the chainsaw he had been using to trim back some of the bushes off the ground and then turned back towards his son. "There's no way you're going that far away from your mother and I."

Tyler's face filled with disgust. "Don't play that card. We all know that it's just a convenient excuse for your real reasoning to keep me close. You're afraid I can't watch out for myself on my own. I promise I'll be fine, whether I'm in England or the US."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it? You guys have been tiptoeing around the subject of going back home to the States for years. Ever since you told me about that stupid prophecy."

"It's not a stupid prophecy," Lauren corrected. "It's your probable future. And something you should take very seriously, Tyler."

"I know. You've lectured me on that fact time and time again. I still don't see why this relates to me going to UCLA."

"You're not going to UCLA," Vaughn amended.

"Oh yes, I am. Unless you finally give me the reason why I shouldn't go that you think is so worthwhile. Tell me the truth for once."

Vaughn looked over at his wife, pleading for her help. She shook her head at him. "I don't know what to say, Michael. There's not much we can do."

"But I don't want our son to run into her."

Before Vaughn could continue, Tyler interrupted, "See who? Who's in California that I shouldn't see?"

Tyler felt his heart freeze as his father turned away from his mother to look at him. He had never seen that look on Vaughn's face before. Vaughn was mad. His father never got mad. Worried, yes. Mad, no. If he didn't know better, he might fear for his life right about now.

"You really want to know, don't you? You've been angry at us because we haven't told you before. We said that it was for the best, but you just couldn't find it in yourself to trust us that much. Fine. Don't say that your mother and I didn't warn you. Don't say we didn't try to protect you for as long as you would allow us to. The woman who is going to kill you is in Los Angeles. She's just sitting there waiting for you to come to her."

"Now, Michael," Lauren said, placing her hand on his arm gently. "Don't be melodramatic. There's no way Hope could kill Tyler."

"Hope?" Tyler said, looking back and forth from one parent to the next. "Her name is Hope? You knew her name?" A realization hit him. "You've known who she is this whole time."

Lauren nodded. "We didn't think it wise to tell you."

"You didn't think it was wise? That's nice. Real nice." He shook his head. "Listen. I am going to UCLA because I've been dreaming about it for four years, but I really couldn't tell you that, could I? Didn't want you guys to have time to figure out a way to keep me from it. Plus, maybe I didn't think that was wise to tell you," he mocked. He paused and took a few deep breaths, knowing that if he was going to persuade them, he would have to keep his temper in check. "I'm nineteen years old. That's old enough to make it on my own. I don't want to, but I will. This is the only thing I've ever really wanted in my life, and I'm going to see it through."

Vaughn's face paled. "Oh god. You sound like me whenever I would give a speech about Syd when I worked in the US."

Tyler reached out and placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "I know you don't realize it, but that was the first time you've mentioned Aunt Sydney to me in eight years, Dad."

"I didn't think you remembered her."

"I don't really that much. There are a lot of vague images in my mind of a pretty woman who used to play tag with me when I was little, but nothing else that really makes any sense. Maybe I would remember her if you talked about her a little more often."

"He had his reasons," Lauren explained.

"He always does," Tyler said, shaking his head in frustration and letting go of Vaughn's shoulder. He was tired of being lied to. His temper might be in check, but that didn't mean he still couldn't let himself get completely pissed off inside.

"Fine," Vaughn said quietly. When his son and wife swung their heads around to stare at him, he cleared his throat and spoke a little louder. "Fine. You can go to UCLA. I don't want to hold you back any more than we already have. You deserve to have the life you dreamed about, even if you never thought you could tell us about what that life was."

"I can't believe you just said yes, Michael." Lauren was shocked at this new development. Vaughn had been the one who kept telling her time and again over the nine years they've spent in this one location that there's no way they could let their son make his own, reckless, fool hearted decisions about his life. It had been determined that it wasn't safe by Lennox.

"I can't believe he did, either," Tyler added. This whole thing was too easy.

"Lennox is going to hate this."

"No, he's not. Jim's been encouraging me to look into colleges in the States since I was a sophomore."

"But I'm sure he didn't intend for you to go to California."

"No one really did," Vaughn pointed out. "But it looks like you're going."

"We should call Jack."

"Jack Bristow?" Tyler asked. "Isn't he some big man in the CIA who everyone seems to be scared to death of?"

"He's a personal friend of your father's," Lauren said with a smug smile. "Your father used to date his daughter."

"No way! You and Aunt Syd dated."

"You really do have a good memory, don't you, Ty?" Vaughn couldn't believe his son remembered that Jack Bristow was Sydney's father. The last he had spoken of Jack to Tyler was eight years earlier. Shaking his head, he reached into his back pocket and hit the three on speed dial. "Lennox. Get Jack on the phone. We need to have a conference as soon as Lauren and I get in. We're bringing Ty with us." He paused. "No, you heard me right. Tyler's coming in with us." Another pause. "Don't argue with me. You have no idea the deep shit we're going to be in with Jack. Tyler has to come with me." Vaughn sighed and hung up the phone. "He was not happy."

Lauren nodded her understanding and turned to her son. "So, it looks like you get to come into work with your parents finally."


	13. The Truth Remains

Sark watched his daughter run around the Christmas tree lot, searching for the perfect tree. Ever since they had spent a Christmas in Maine, Hope had gotten addicted to setting up a massive pine tree in their living room and decorating it to her liking. For some reason, she wanted to put thousands of pieces of tinsel on it this year. That was something to look forward to.

In their four years of living in L.A. once more, Sark had to admit that things had quieted down to where putting tinsel on the tree was the most pressing thing he had to worry about. The developments in the prophecy plaguing the thoughts of Sydney and him were few and far between. They hadn't even spoken of it in over a month.

He broke away from his thoughts as his daughter yelled his name. She was standing in front of the scrawniest tree he had ever seen and pointing emphatically at it. "Is that the one you want?"

"Yeah, isn't it great?"

Sark couldn't believe that Hope had found the worst tree on the lot and fell in love with it. Trying to use his best happy voice, he replied, "It's fantastic."

His daughter collapsed into a fit of laughter immediately. He stared at her in confusion until she had calmed down five minutes later. "What's so funny?"

"I just wanted to see if I could get you to lie to me. That's the worst tree in the whole world, Dad."

He punched her gently on the arm. "You need to stop tormenting me, kid."

"Mom does it."

"Your mother is allowed to. I love her."

"And you don't love me?"

He looked at her seriously. "I tolerate you. There's a difference." Hope stuck out her bottom lip in a pout, and he couldn't help but laugh. Grabbing her, he pulled her in close to his side. "Now that pout you got from me. Let's find us the perfect Christmas tree."

* * *

Sydney paced back and forth before the front door of her house. Her father was supposed to call her. She had received an anonymous letter on the front porch about half an hour after Sark and Hope had left to go on the perfect Christmas tree hunt.

Someone was offering her information on her daughter's future for a million dollars.

Her cell phone began to rang, and she rushed into the dining room to pick it up. "Talk to me, Dad."

"The offer seems legitimate. The man said he was from a faction of the newly reformed K-Directorate. Our best guess, he's one of the underlings that doesn't like the fact that he won't be able to work his way up to a powerful position like he always wanted. Figures that the CIA might give him the money he needs to buy himself a place."

"Are you actually telling me that I should find a way to get the million dollars?"

"No. There's no way you should pay this guy that much. Whatever information he has, it can't be that hard to get. He's just an underling. Give me a few hours, and I'll figure out what he knows."

"Dad, I don't have a few hours. He said that he would send someone to get the money by six o'clock. It's already 4:52. I don't have the time to let you do some detective work."

"I'm still going to do it. Maybe it won't take as long as I think it will."

"This has set-up written all over it."

"I know that. But sometimes you have to take a leap of faith into a trap to get to the point you want to be at."

"You're philosophizing. It's quite annoying."

"Then call your mother and tell her your problems," Jack said before hanging up.

Sydney felt herself smile for the first time since she had gotten that anonymous note. Her father always got touchy whenever she mocked him. Sighing, she dialed her mother's number. Irina picked up on the second ring. "What's wrong, Sydney?"

"I don't only call you when something's wrong," she defended, making her way up the stairs and into her bedroom. She sat down into the comfy chair by the window with a plop.

"Yes, you do. I haven't sent you on a solid assignment for a year, Sydney, because you're so concerned for my granddaughter. The only time you call me is when you think Hope's in danger."

"What a lie," she said, rolling her eyes even though she knew that her mother was right.

"But it's the truth. What's wrong with Hope?"

"I got a letter this morning from a man claiming he had information on the Hope's prophecy. He demanded a million dollars in return for the info. I didn't know what to do and, since Sark is currently out with Hope, I didn't have anyone to ask."

"You called your father," Irina said, recognizing Sydney's failure to get to the point as the usual sign for when she went to her father for help before she called her mother.

"I figured with his obvious CIA resources he might be able to find the origin of the note. And before you say it, I know you have CIA resources, too. But they're all black ops-y and I don't really understand what you can and can't do with them."

"Point taken. So what did Jack have to say?"

"He said he thought it was an underling of K-Directorate trying to make a name for himself so that he can be promoted farther up. Told me that I shouldn't give him the money."

"How long do you have?"

"About one hour, then there is going to be an operative on my door demanding the million."

"I knew that bringing you three back to Los Angeles was the wrong decision."

"We haven't been targeted by one mercenary since we came here," Sydney pointed out.

"Mostly because I've had some of my agents protecting you."

"I told you not to do that, Mom."

"It was necessary."

Sydney growled to herself in frustration. It wasn't really that the idea of having her mother assign her protection that made her so angry. It was the fact that she was so caught up in her domestic bliss that she hadn't noticed these alleged agents' presence. There used to be a time when things like that didn't get by her.

"So you want my advice, right?" Irina asked after a moment of silence. "The situation sounds completely fishy. Shoot the agent when he shows up at your house."

"Just shoot him? No verbal exchange? No talk about what he knows?'

"Shoot him," Irina affirmed. "It will make things a lot easier on you. If he does have some information that is pertinent to your life, it's better you didn't know. You're happy right now, and you shouldn't mess with that. If the offer is a sham, then you just saved yourself a few minutes. And you'll have time to clean up before your family gets home."

Sydney heard a creak on the stairs leading up to the second floor. "What time is it?" she asked her mother.

"5:19. Why?"

She sat still and listened for a few minutes in silence.

"Sydney?" Irina prodded.

"Sorry. I thought I heard someone in the house, but it couldn't have been. Sark and Hope shouldn't be home for at least another two hours if I know the way my daughter picks out a Christmas tree. That agent with all the info shouldn't be here until six o'clock, so it's not them."

"You should run a perimeter check. Don't get sloppy."

"I know. I'll call you in the morning and let you know how everything went."

Sydney heard the floorboard creak beside her before she registered that a hand was covering her mouth. The phone hit the floor just about the time, she turned to get a look at her attacker.

"Sydney? Sydney? Are you there?" Irina's voice rang through the phone. "Damnit, Sydney. Answer me."

* * *

Sark pulled into the driveway and let out the breath he had been holding as he saw the porch light on. That was Sydney's code to him that everything was okay. If anything went wrong while he was out, the first thing she would do was hit the switch to turn the light off. It was the first thing they had done when they moved into the house. An electrician had been called, and he was quickly paid lots of money to install light switches in each room that controlled the porch light and not ask questions while he was doing it.

Hope slid out of the car once Sark had pulled it to a stop in front of the closed garage. "Dad?" she said hesitantly as they both began to untie the tree from the hood of the SUV.

"What's the problem, munchkin?" he said with a smile.

"I have a question for you." When her father continued to untie the tree without paying her much attention, she added, "About boys."

Sark felt his whole body stiffen, and his breath push out of his lungs. "You have a question about boys? Aren't you too young for that kind of thing?"

"I'm fourteen, Dad." She sighed. "I knew I should have just waited and asked Mom."

"Give me a moment," he said. Stopping he thought about his daughter. She seemed too innocent to be worrying about boys in any way. It was amazing how hard a life she had had so far, but she had still managed to turn out normal. Someday he was going to have to shatter that innocent world. But at least it wasn't today. He hefted the tree off the roof with help from Hope and finally turned to her. "I'm sorry, love. You took me by surprise there. What is it you want to know?"

"There's this boy in my Math class named Tyler."

Sark felt his body freeze up again even though there was no rationale to it. If his daughter happened to like a boy named Tyler in her Math class, that had no connection to Tyler Vaughn. Tyler Vaughn lived halfway around the world with his parents. Sark should know. He checked to make sure that fact hadn't changed nearly every day and every night.

"Dad, you're not breathing," Hope said, pushing his shoulder lightly. "If I had known this would be so traumatic for you, I definitely would have asked Mom."

"I'm fine," Sark said. "My mind just wandered off somewhere. So, you like a boy named Tyler, huh?"

"Yeah. Except he doesn't even talk to me. I keep asking him questions about our assignments, and all I get is one word answers."

"Does Tyler like Math class?"

"No. He absolutely hates Math."

"Well, there's your problem. You need to talk to him about something you both are interested in."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. You're the one that's in love with this Tyler character."

Hope shot her father a dirty look. "I never said it was love."

"It's always love at your age." Sark hooked his arm around his daughter's neck. "Tell you what. Let's go inside, tell your Mom about this Tyler character, and then we can get her opinion."

Hope shut the door behind them as they went inside the house. She felt her father tense up for the third time. "Is something wrong?" she whispered. She was used to either one of her parents getting nervous at any possible moment. There seemed to always be some sort of crisis on the horizon for them to worry about.

Her parents had told her about the prophecy involving her on her thirteenth birthday, so she was pretty sure most of the tensing up had to do with her somehow. Still, it made her get worried for her parents.

"No, nothing's wrong," Sark said, assuring her with a smile. "I just though it might be smart to put the tree in the garage. We probably won't get it up tonight, but it should be in the garage in case it snows. We don't want a wet tree in the morning. Go upstairs and get your Mom. We'll show her the tree once I get it inside the garage."

Hope nodded and, after watching her father walk back outside, she made her way upstairs. "Mom? Where are you?" When there was no answer, she rolled her eyes. Her mother was probably enthralled in some file folder that her grandma or grandpa sent over with one of her trillion aunts or uncles. It seemed like she had the largest, non-blood related family in the world. "Mom," she yelled again.

Pushing the door open, she saw the room in complete disarray. There were papers everywhere, and a steady buzzing coming from somewhere in the mess. On automatic, Hope stumbled into the room and tried to locate the buzzing. Kneeling down, she found her mother's cell phone under a pile of ripped up books. It looked like there had been a phone call in progress.

Hope looked around the room, searching for something. What exactly that was she didn't quite know. Her eyes rested on the light switch that matched the corresponding switches in every other room. There were claw marks all around it, as if someone was desperately trying to get the light to switch off.

Looking back on this moment, she would shudder at the memory of the shrill scream that erupted from her throat as she finally realized that her mother was gone.


	14. Searching For a Plan

Sark sat down on the couch next to his daughter. It was four in the morning, but he had finally gotten every single person to clear out of his house. Once he had come in to find his daughter distraught and his wife gone, he had called in both of Sydney's parents.

The house had been swarming with officially sanctioned and unofficially sanctioned agents, trying to turn up any clue that was present. Now there were only a handful of agents positioned around the perimeter of his home. If it were up to him, no agents would be there. But it had been the only way to get Irina to agree to leave him "alone" with his daughter.

Sark sighed. There was so much to do. He was going to have to call in all his old, unused favors to get his wife back. It wasn't really a matter of wondering if he would get her back. He knew he would get her back. The only unanswered question was how long it would take him.

"I want to help," Hope said, softly, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?" he asked, playing dumb.

"I'm fourteen, Dad, not an idiot. You and Mom work for Grandma Irina. You do something shady for the government, unlike Grandpa Jack who doesn't do anything shady."

"That's arguable." Sark took a deep breath and turned to face his daughter. "So, you finally know what your mom and I do for a living."

"I've know since I was ten," she pointed out. "You guys weren't that secretive."

"We really thought we were."

"I want to help," she repeated.

"I don't see how you can. This is a dangerous world that Syd and I work in."

"I can help," she insisted.

"You're not qualified," he said, pulling Hope into his arms. "I wish you could help, darling, but you're just not…" His voice trailed off. "I'll get her back, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I know that, Dad."

Sark relaxed slightly as he sensed the truth in her words. She believed him. At least he had that right now.

* * *

It was obvious that the Covenant had played some part in his wife's abduction, but Sark still couldn't find any leads. There was no evidence of who had taken her in the massive chaos that used to be his bedroom. She had been gone for twenty-four hours, and all he could think of to do was pace back and forth in their room searching for clues.

"There has to be something," he whispered to himself. His eyes landed on the scratches where Sydney had tried to flip on their 'panic light'. Shuddering, he walked out of the room before the reality of what must have happened to her sank in.

The house was quiet ever since he sent Hope to stay with her grandmother. In a time like this, Irina was really the only person he trusted to keep his little girl safe. The world would self-destruct before she let her granddaughter get hurt in any way.

Hearing his cell phone begin to ring, he took the last few stairs in one giant leap and ran to the front hall where it was sitting on a table. "Tell me something good."

"It's Will."

"How are things over the pond?" Sark asked, trying to allow himself to relax slightly in order to keep Will on the line as long as possible. At this point, any sort of human contact was good in distracting him from his complete lack of action. Things were beginning to seem hopeless.

"I'm not there right now. Irina has me working on figuring out some more information in this whole Rambaldi mess, and she asked me to come to the States for a little while until my assignment is complete. Anyway, the reason I'm calling you is I think that Sydney's disappearance might have something to do with some new developments I've come across."

"Lay it on me," Julian said, sitting down on the couch in the next room.

"I found out that the Covenant has been digging around in some of Sydney's past. It seems like they've had a man following different people in her life including myself. Most interestingly, it seems the Covenant has renewed the interest they've had in California. They seem to be preparing for some influx in activity in the area."

"I don't know why. There's nothing changing over her anytime soon. Sydney and I have been running all the menial missions for Irina so that we can watch over Hope. She seems to have integrated herself nicely into her school. She's even made some friends."

"That's good to hear. Hope deserves to have a normal life."

"I know she does, but I don't think that's something that any of us can really give her on a permanent basis. Especially right now, considering her mother was abducted. Why don't you tell me more about why this new information is leading to Sydney being taken?"

"I think the Covenant thinks they can get their hands on Hope by initiating an exchange of her for Sydney. They're banking on you loving your wife enough to give up anything and everything."

Sark shook his head. "They obviously don't know Sydney. She would literally murder me if I traded our daughter's life for hers."

"I thought you might want to know in case the Covenant contacts you to set up the exchange."

"I hope they do, Will. Because then I might be able to trace where their communication is coming from."

"Good luck, Julian."

"You'll let me know if you get more information that I need to know?"

"Will do."

Sark closed his phone and flung it at the chair opposite him. So, the Covenant thought he would trade away his daughter after years of giving his life up to protect her from falling into their hands. He was going to have to think this development over and find a way to use it to his advantage.

Sighing, he sat up and retrieved his phone. There were a few phone calls he had to make first, though.

* * *

Hope groaned and flung her book across the room. It hit the wall with a resounding smack.

"What is wrong, young lady?" Irina said, sticking her head into the kitchen of her house.

"This math assignment is ridiculous. Why couldn't I have to compose a story or something interesting instead of having to do these stupid algebra equations?"

"Algebra is important," Irina called as she walked back out of the room. "Keep at it."

"Keep at it," Hope mocked silently. "I don't see her using Algebra in her job. I guess being the head of a secret government agency might give you a free pass to having to do math, but still!"

Groaning again, she slid out of her chair and wandered her way down the hall. She caught the sound of her grandmother on the telephone and couldn't help but listen.

"You really think that the Covenant is going to try to pull an exchange, Julian?"

Hearing her father's name, Hope couldn't hold herself back and pushed the slightly closed door open in order to walk into the room. Irina wagged her finger at Hope but didn't tell her to leave. "Good thing I have Will assigned to be in California for a few more months. He's in a position to get us some information without the Covenant being the wiser. So, did Jack have any new information? Wait. What am I saying? Of course he doesn't. His little CIA minions never seem to get any of the information that we need."

Hope heard her father say something before Irina said goodbye and hung up the phone. She winced slightly and closed her eyes expecting her grandmother to start laying into her about entering the room while she was doing business. When no yelling came, she opened one eye an inch. "Aren't you going to yell at me?"

"No. I think you know that you should have knocked before coming in."

Sighing, Hope let out the breath she hadn't known she had been holding and walked over to where Irina sat at her desk. "What did my Dad have to say?"

"It seems your Uncle Will gave him a lead."

Hope waited for Irina to say more. When it didn't come, she frowned slightly.

"Don't start to pout. You know from experience that no one in your family will talk business around you. You're still too young."

"I want to help you guys find my Mom," Hope pleaded. "There has to be something I can do."

"You don't have enough experience to help us with this one, darling. This business might get dangerous real soon if we're going to get Sydney back."

"I have experience. I know all about what you do on your missions."

"No, you don't," Irina said, standing up and walking over to her granddaughter. "I'm sorry, Hope. But until you get a little older, the things your parents and I do are just not safe for you to partake in."

Hope shrugged off the hand Irina had placed on her shoulder. "Fine. I guess I'll just go back to my safe homework and let you guys handle the fact that my Mom is in danger out there somewhere."

"That's not what I meant," Irina managed to call before Hope slammed the door shut. "This is not good," she whispered taking a deep breath. "Not good at all."

Hope stalked down the hallway and back into the kitchen. "There has to be something I can do to help, no matter what everyone tells me. I know that I'm not too young to help."

The voices of her father and grandmother rang through her head, taunting her lack of experience, to the point that she was starting to form a headache. Frustrated, she flung the last remaining book that was on the table to the floor. "Fine. If they don't think I have enough experience, then I'll have to come up with a way to get it."

Suddenly, the perfect solution to her problems popped up in her head. "It has to work," she whispered, running the details through her head a few times. She had to be sure that this was the right move to make before she started. She grabbed a piece of paper and pencil off the ground and started mapping it out.

Ten minutes later, having decided that her plan was definitely foolproof, Hope dialed a familiar number. "Uncle Will. What are you up to?"

"Nothing besides trying to track down who your mother got herself kidnapped by this time. Has something happened?"

"No, nothing to do with my mom. I'm going a little stir crazy with Grandma."

Will chuckled. "It still makes me laugh when you call Irina that."

"She is my grandmother."

"I know that, squirt."

"Are you busy right now?"

"Depends on what you want from me."

Hoping that he would see through the slight lie she was telling, she started explaining why she called, "Grandma told me that you are working on a project here in California for her. I was wondering if I could come stay with you up North while you're here in the States. I figured Dad might be able to focus more knowing that I'm completely out of harms way while he searches for Mom."

"What else do you want because that sounds too self-sacrificing for your normal mode of operations?"

"Well, there are a few things you know that I think I should know."

"What's in this deal for me?"

"Remember a few years back when I found those old love letters you wrote my Mom? The ones you said you'd die from embarrassment if she ever saw?" Hope snickered to herself. "Well, turns out that I never really threw them away."

"That's blackmail, Hope," Will scolded.

"My Dad taught me well."

"All right, kid. As long as you can get your Dad and Grandma to agree to it and as long as it's not going to cause me to get into any trouble, you can come stay with me."

"And you'll teach me a few things?"

"I guess, you little brat."

"Thank you, Uncle Will," she squealed.

"Don't start in with the gratitude. You haven't gotten anyone else to agree with your little plan."

"They will. I have everyone wrapped around my finger," she said unabashedly. "See you soon."

"Yeah. See you soon, kid."

Hope hung up the phone and went running to go tell Irina what she had just gotten Will to promise. As she had said, she knew the secret to getting everyone to agree to this. She would just point out the benefits of having her out of the way where the Covenant doesn't know she will be.

"It has to work," she told herself. In her mind, there was really no other option.


	15. Short Conversations

Sydney stared at the large man standing shoulder to shoulder with her on her right and then looked over at the man of equal size on her left. "Okay," she thought, assuring herself. "True, they are rather large and intimidating and probably armed with at least half a dozen guns a piece. But you're Sydney Bristow. You should be able to handle this."

Before she could make a move, there was a slight sting around her neck as the metal collar rubbed her the wrong way. She groaned and gave it a good yank. It didn't budge.

"Don't you think that you guys could take this off for just a minute?" she inquired.

"The boss says there's no way you're supposed to get that thing off. I'm not some stupid thug," the man on her right said.

Sydney nodded in exasperation and turned to the guy on her left. "I don't suppose you are?" When the man just stared her down, she shrugged. "I thought not. So what are we supposed to do now, boys? I really haven't had a good escape plan since you put this stupid accessory on me a week ago. There's nothing to keep us on our toes."

Neither man answered. Sighing, she walked to the other side of her cell and sat down on the small bunk she had slept in for every night for the two months she had been cooped up in wherever she was. Days had just flown by like mad as she tried time after time to get herself out of this predicament. Every time, though, it seemed like the others were one step ahead of her. Honestly, it didn't surprise her when she thought of who had taken her and put her in this hellhole.

"What's on the agenda today?" she asked, lying down and folding her hands back behind her head. "Your boss seems to always have some kind of work for me to do. Helps keep it real to know what's going on in the world, I guess."

"We haven't gotten word."

"Okay. So, does anyone know any show tunes?"

* * *

"Your dad's on the phone, squirt," Will screamed from downstairs. 

Hope paused in working the punching bag to give a small smile before vaulting down the stairs and into the kitchen. As she reached for the phone, Will pulled it up high out of her reach. "You're getting serious about those workouts, Hope."

"Now is not the time for an intervention," Hope said, jumping up and grabbing the phone. Sticking her tongue out at Will as a final act of defiance, she said, "Hi, Dad. What's up?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice. It's hard to get you on the line these days."

"I'm busy. Uncle Will has been making sure that I get all A's in my tutorials for school."

"Good. Your mom would kill me if she found out you were flunking when she gets back."

Hope smiled at his comment. "Still optimistic after two months?"

"Your mother is coming home, kid."

"I know. I don't doubt it. No one can really keep you two apart from what Will tells me. Seems like amnesia and gunshot wounds are your usual thing. How much you want to bet that Mom has either one or another?"

"That's not funny," he scolded.

"Humor helps you through the tough times. That's what Grandpa Jack has been telling me non-stop for the past sixty-four days."

"Your grandpa has no idea what humor is."

"You should have heard him when he came up to visit last weekend. I think there might have been an actual laugh like noise coming from his lips." Hope could hear Sark shuffling through some papers on the other end of the phone. "Are you busy?"

"Anna just brought me a lead she had on your mother. I'm going to have to talk with you more later."

"No problem. I have stuff to get back to." Hope hung up the phone and jogged back up the stairs.

Will was standing in the middle of the gym, cutting air idly with a sword.

"You didn't tell me the Geenata blade came in!" she screamed running up to him. "Let me touch."

"You have your father's enthusiasm for painful weapons."

Hope flipped the sword out of his hand and into hers. "And my mother's efficiency. Now arm yourself before I cut you again like I did last time you were too slow."

"Your father is going to kill me," Will said before picking a sword from off the wall to his left.

* * *

Sydney hummed the chorus of Oklahoma as she hit her hundredth push-up. Her arms were beginning to get sore, but this was pretty much the only exercise she could get when shoved into a two by two cell with a pair of big, burly men. "No jogging for me," she mumbled, standing up and dusting off her hands. She turned to the man closest to her. "Okay. Thug #1, I guess it's high time I learned your name. You've been guarding me during the weekday afternoon shift pretty consistently. So, do you have a name? Are you married? What are your hobbies? How did you start working for such a psychopath?" 

"We're really not allowed to converse with you," the other man said.

"So says Thug #2." She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're new. And I don't like you."

"He's right, Sydney. Boss would kill us if we keep talking to you."

"Fine. I'll go back to amusing myself. Got to do something to pass the time before my husband shows up and kills you all." She flung herself back onto the bed. "I'm thinking of a number between one and one hundred. Oh wait. You can't talk to me. This game is going to really suck." She paused while continuing to stare at the ceiling. "Fifty-two? Nope. Twenty-nine? So close. Fifteen?"

* * *

"Anna, is this true?" Sark said, holding up the files she had given him a few minutes earlier. 

"I've had multiple sources confirming. Your wife is safely tucked away in Puerto Deseado."

Sark pushed himself to his feet and ran over to Anna. "You are a goddess." Unable to control his joy, he picked her up and swung her in a few circles before planting a kiss on her lips.

"I've been told that by many men," Anna said with a smile. "Do you want me to assemble a team?"

"Call Irina. I'm sure she'll want to go. We have to keep it quiet which means no CIA. Since Sydney left them, they can't seem to do anything right."

Anna smirked. "You didn't even have to tell me that. I've fought the CIA for years. Listen. You should probably call Hope back and tell her the news."

He shook his head emphatically. "No way. Hope does not know about this until we get Sydney back. I don't want to get her hopes up just to shatter them a few hours later."

"My sources aren't wrong," Anna insisted.

"I hope they're not, but I can't risk it."

"I guess this means Will stays in the dark, too."

"He has to. I can't chance that he'll let something slip or even look a little too preoccupied while we're going in to get my wife. Hope's extremely perceptive. She always knows where I hid her Christmas presents almost before I hid them."

"Understood. But just remember, the only reason I'm taking orders from you is that it's convenient for me. You're one of the few people I respect." Anna held up her finger and pointed at him as she backed out of the room. "But don't push me, Julian. Even I have boundaries."

As she was about to close the door behind her, she paused and poked her head back inside. "You should probably call Michael Vaughn in Fiji. He's been going crazy worrying about Sydney."

"I thought there wasn't supposed to be any contact between my life and his. Wasn't that made clear to everyone?"

"Lines are starting to get a little hazy." Anna gave him one last wicked smile before disappearing from sight.

"That man always had a hero complex when it came to my wife," Sark muttered. The second she was out of the room, he picked up the phone and started dialing. There were quite a few things to arrange before he could break up his wife's little impromptu vacation.

* * *

Sydney looked at the cement floor. "I think I might try to the tunneling option again. I haven't done that in a few weeks." She looked over at the men. "Or if you want, I can try to sever the bars again. That was fun times." 

"How do you expect to sever the bars when you have no weapon?" the new thug asked her.

"Aren't you, Mister Chatty?" Sydney said walking over to him. "Not afraid of losing your job all the sudden?"

"My curiosity is getting the best of me, Mrs. Lazarey."

"Come on now. Why the formality all of the sudden?" She smiled widely at him. "You can call me Sydney. And now to answer your question, there are plenty of weapons for me to use. Last time, I knocked both the guards unconscious and used the knife one of them foolishly had on his person to break through four of the bars before the higher ups got wise to my ways."

"We aren't allowed to carry knives."

"And now you know why." Sydney rolled her eyes. "You think they could have gotten me thugs that were at least on my level with the clever deductions." She turned her attention to the other man. "How about you? Got any stories you want to hear?"

"The one where you ended up handcuffed to your bed with the guard's clothing on for two days before someone realized that you had tried another one of your crazy escape plans and failed is pretty funny."

"You were there for that one. There's no need for me to retell it."

"But it is rather funny."

"Speaking of that day, how are the bruises on your neck?"

"Healing. I still don't understand why you had to strangle me instead of just knocking me unconscious with the hammer. How you got a hammer I'll never know."

"I've got skills," Sydney said, shrugging. She was about to start goading the rookie again when she heard a strange sound coming from down the hall. "Are those footsteps? I thought the changing of the guard wasn't for at least four more hours." She shrugged and made herself comfortable.

About a minute later, she got her answer.

"Hello, Syd," the woman said, leering at her through the cell bars. "Sorry I couldn't come see you earlier."

Sydney waved off her concern. "Not a problem. I didn't know you existed for the first thirty-something years of my life. I didn't mind the wait. But can I ask you one thing? I still don't understand why you felt the need to kidnap me, Nadia."


	16. Sisterly Love

Sydney stared around at the office that was her sister's place of work. It was definitely more inviting than the cold cell she had been cooped up in for two months with barely a break. "Nice digs," she said as Nadia entered the room and took a seat behind her desk.

Nadia shrugged. "They work for what I need."

"Running the Covenant?"

"Carrying on my father's life work. All things Rambaldi are my life. You can say that, just like Arvin Sloane, they've consumed me."

Sydney stared at her a moment before speaking. "You sound really sick. I wish I knew you had existed earlier."

"That's just another could of to be added to your list of short-fallings, Sydney."

"If I remember correctly, you are Rambaldi yourself," she said, changing the subject. She did not want to start a conversation on all the mistakes and screw-ups that had occurred throughout her life. "Didn't you have some inbred subconscious scribing thing? I remember a creepy green liquid being involved."

Nadia just shrugged again. Just like Sydney did not want to talk about her mistakes, she did not want to give her sister more ammunition to use against her than was necessary. "Let's get down to business. I offered you your freedom yesterday."

"In return for me handing my daughter over to you," Sydney pointed out.

"She is the key to Rambaldi. She needs to be raised to live up to her genes."

"So, you want my daughter to do what exactly?"

"She needs training. We might not be close, but I am her aunt by blood, Sydney. I don't want her going into a fight unprepared."

"I assume you're talking about Tyler Vaughn."

"You've been keeping tabs on him. You should know that his life is bound to cross with Hope's really soon." Nadia watched Sydney's face well up in confusion. "You don't know what's happened. That is priceless. My father was right when he said that the CIA was clueless."

"I don't work for the CIA anymore."

"Good point. The real question is wouldn't you have expected more of our mother. Seems to me she's withholding information from you. That is what happens when you have conflicting ties." Nadia reached for the phone. "We should probably just call her, and she can explain to you what's happening that you've been kept in the dark about."

Sydney started to laugh, and Nadia's hand froze with the receiver halfway up to her ear. She looked at Sydney inquisitively, prompting Sydney to explain what she found so funny. "Do you really think that threat is going to work? Irina would never have contact with you, Nadia."

"I'm her daughter just as much as you are, Sydney."

"That's true. Maybe I phrased that wrong. She might have contact with you, but it wouldn't involve putting her granddaughter in any danger. If she knew something about Tyler Vaughn that was going to affect Hope's safety, she would tell Sark or I. If she knew that you were a threat to any of the three of us, she would tell me. So, obviously our mother does not know what you have been up to."

"Fine. Believe me or don't. It's your prerogative." Nadia set the receiver back down. "But back to the business at hand. You cannot hide your daughter away from the world. She will end up meeting the Vaughn boy one day. When that happens, she has to be prepared to defend herself."

"It's a valid point, but not one I agree with. I made a vow years ago not to let Milo Rambaldi rule the direction my life took."

"That is your mistake. Rambaldi was a genius. If you only listened to what he said, your life would run much more smoothly."

"I remember a time when he predicted I would be the end of the world. How is that supposed to make my life run more smoothly?"

"Weak translation. Rambaldi never predicted the end of the world. He just predicted the presence of a powerful woman that could affect the world as a whole."

Sydney rolled her eyes and stood up, walking over to the desk her sister sat behind. "Okay. I don't think these negotiations are going to go well, so why don't we just save our time? Get your thugs back in here, and they can take me back to my cell."

"Why are you so confident still? If I can get to you, Sydney, I can easily get to your daughter. I'm just trying to give you an easy out before I forcefully take her from you. I can't promise if I'm pushed to that extreme that all your friends will make it out alive." Nadia smiled at her. "I'm doing this for you."

"I'm sure you are."

"What good is a sister if they're not going to look out for you?"

Sydney just shook her head and looked to the door. "Are your men at the door waiting to escort me back to my cell?"

"Actually, there's no one out there. I don't really expect for you to leave this room until you've accepted my offer. You really have no other choice."

Sydney sank back down into her chair. "You have no idea how good I am at stand-offs then. We might be here for a while."

"I could just shoot you and get it over with," Nadia pointed out.

"But that would only lead to your own death."

"A point that I haven't lost sight of. I just wanted you to know that chances are if I kill you, I would survive. I'm just as good as you are. That's the way Rambaldi wanted things to develop. Or maybe you don't remember his prophecy about our fight to the death."

"I gave up on that prophecy when I searched for you for fourteen years without any success. If that fight was going to happen, it would have been done and over with by now. Face it. Your intellectual genius was wrong."

"A quick bullet to your head right now would prove you wrong."

There was a sudden bang on the door that called both women's attention. "Is that how your goons knock?" Sydney asked.

"First off, the men you keep calling goons and thugs are highly trained agents of the Covenant. They could kill you with one hand."

"I seemed to get the best of them every single time I got bored and decided to escape."

"And by 'got the best' do you mean they kept you from escaping?"

"Escaping was never really my goal. I was just trying to fish out the weaknesses." There was a second bang on the door. "Are you going to answer that?"

Nadia shook her head. "That's not any of my agents. So, no, I think I'll just let it be. See if whoever wants to get in is good enough to work around my security locks."

As soon as she said that, there was a faint click of the lock mechanism turning. This time when there was a third loud bang, the door flew open.

"Hi, honey. I'm home," Sark said, smirking at both of Irina's daughters. "Did you miss me?"

"Hello, Julian," Nadia said, nodding at him.

"Did I miss something? Have you two met before?" Sydney asked.

"Not formerly," Nadia explained, still not moving from her seat. Obviously Sark's presence didn't alarm her in any way. "Your husband and I have met throughout the years on some of his assignments. The first time was over fifteen years ago, I think. Why were you working with the Argentine government, Julian?"

"I don't recall." He turned to Sydney. "Are you ready to go?"

"Don't bother," Nadia said, waving her hand at him. "My men should be here within twenty seconds to make sure you don't make it more than ten feet out of this office."

"You have a lot of faith in your men, don't you?"

"I train the best to be the best."

Sark looked down at his watch. "They have about ten seconds left."

"They'll be here." Nadia smiled as an alarm started to ring throughout the building.

"Alarms don't mean anything," Sark informed her. "I still don't see any men. Five seconds."

The trio stared at each other as the five seconds passed by. "No one," Sydney said, shaking her head at her sister. "Looks like you aren't as good as you thought."

Nadia nodded towards the opening doorway where one man stood, his bulk taking up the entire doorway.

"One guy?" Sark said, practically laughing in her face. "You expect us to be stopped by one man?"

"Hey! I know this guy!" Sydney cried. "Thug #2! How are you doing? Do you think your boss lady will let you banter with me while I kick your ass?"

She didn't wait for a reply before punching the man squarely in the nose. He didn't flinch nor did he move, but she really hadn't expected him to on the first punch. Sark turned back to Nadia as his wife had her fun with one of her many captors. "I guess that leaves you for me."

"You got the short end of the stick." Nadia stood up and smoothed her pants. "Don't get too bothered by the fact that you're trying to hurt your wife's sister. And try to ignore the fact that I look quite a lot like her."

"I should do fine," Sark informed her, shifting into a fighting stance.

"We'll see," she answered, smiling at him knowingly.

Sark registered both the hand grabbing his shoulder and the punch across his face at the same time. He really hadn't seen the other man standing behind the goon Sydney was currently taking to town. A knee to the stomach later and he found himself sprawled face down on the floor.

"A little harder than you thought, isn't it?" Nadia said, taunting him from somewhere above.

"No," he growled, rolling onto his back to block another kick from the man who had sucker punched him two seconds earlier. "It just got a little more interesting." He pulled himself to his feet, dodging a few punches, and then hit his opponent in the face three times in quick succession.

When the man appeared fazed slightly, Sark looked over at his wife. She was currently pinned up against the wall and was taking a few shots to her abdomen. "Syd!" he yelled. When she blocked a punch and looked over at him, he grabbed a statue off of Nadia's desk and lobbed it at her.

Sydney caught it and cracked her thug with it over the head. She turned back in time to see Sark go hurtling to the floor as his man tackled him. "Idiot," she groaned under her breath. He had taken his eyes off his opponent in order to help her. The man's every move was practically governed by his heart these days. He was really out of practice in tuning into the inner cold-hearted bastard that she had grown to love so many years earlier.

At least she knew that he could take care of himself just as well as he could take a punch. That left her to finish up the other loose end who was currently staring at the action without taking part.

"Time to prove your little mentor right," Sydney said, smiling a little too sadistically. She tended to get this way when her family was threatened. It was even worse when her family was threatened by other members of her family. Sark's brutal ways must have transferred over to her at some point during their marriage. It was almost as startling as it was ironic.

Nadia didn't waste any time to being afraid or intimidated. It was obviously to Sydney that they really were of the same blood when her sister started swinging. The first blow narrowly missed her head, and the second one caught her in the side before she could block it.

Before Sydney could recover, Nadia grabbed her body and threw her up against the wall as hard as she could. She could feel her body crack under the impact, but she wasn't really sure what had gotten damaged as she slumped to the ground. The only thing she knew was that they had been fighting for less than thirty seconds, and it already hurt her to move.

"Tough luck," Nadia leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I thought you might actually last a full round before I took you out."

"Stop taunting me," Sydney hissed back.

"It's what we Derevko women do best. You know, Syd, I think I finally figured out the point where you and I differ. I used to think that we were so similar when I was growing up. I couldn't understand why you got to have the fun life while I was stuck in an orphanage. But I finally realized why that was."

"Enlighten me."

"I have what it takes to survive while you don't. You come so close, but you never really make it on your own, do you?"

"No." Sydney's frown of pain shifted slightly into a small smile. "I guess you're right. But see, that's why I never make it a habit to travel alone."

Nadia felt her head whip back as Sark grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her to her feet. "You better hope you didn't hurt her or else there will be no chance for mercy."

Sydney watched from her position on the floor as her husband threw the sister she had never known from one end of the room to the other. She knew that she should probably feel sorry for Nadia. A lot of the choices she made in her life hadn't been her own. Sydney wished she could change that, but she couldn't. Now all she could do was watch while the woman learned her mistakes firsthand.

Sark managed to pull himself back as Nadia was about to drift out of consciousness. He had pummeled her whole body rather viciously. Taking a moment's rest, he turned back to Sydney to see her smiling at him. "What?" he said, walking over to her.

"For a second there, I thought you had lost your love of all things violent."

"No. It's still there."

She let him help her to her feet, trying to keep from wincing at the pain of the movement. "Obviously. What should we do with her?"

"I don't know. I don't care. I just want to get you home."

Sydney allowed herself to be led across the room by her husband. As they reached the door, a muffled noise from where Nadia lay caused them to look back. "What did you say?" Sark asked.

Nadia struggled but finally managed to use the desk to pull herself up into a sitting position. "I was asking Sydney if she wanted to know where Tyler Vaughn is going to be in about five months time."

"No, I don't," Sydney said. "Let's leave."

"Then watch out for your daughter. Los Angeles is not that large of a city," Nadia called as they walked out the door and down the hall.

"Did she say that Tyler was coming to L.A.?" Sark asked.

"There's no way he could be," Sydney replied. "Vaughn and Lauren know that we moved back to the city years ago. They wouldn't let their son have the opportunity to meet Hope. They are as scared as us that the damn prophecy might be true. I wouldn't trust a thing she said, either. She had an agenda. For whatever reason, part of it is to have Hope working at her side."

"Our daughter is not going to end up in the spy business."

"That's what I told her." Sydney came to a halt as they exited the building. "Fresh air. God, I missed that."

"Sorry it took me so long," he apologized hesitantly.

She smiled at his worried expression. "I'm not mad at you. It gave me time to try to figure a few things out about our current predicament with the next generation of super spies."

"Did you come up with anything?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "But it didn't hurt to try. Now let's go home. I want to see firsthand that my daughter hasn't become a delinquent."

Sark slipped his hand into hers and led her over to where he had parked the car he had rented at the airport. "Well, it's a long story. But Hope hasn't exactly been living with me in L.A. She's been with Will on a ranch upstate…"


	17. In One State

The phone in the kitchen and the doorbell rang simultaneously in the ranch that Will and Hope had been calling home for the past two months. "I'll get the phone," she screamed even though her mouth was full of the sandwich she had just made.

"Got the door!" Will yelled back.

Hope nodded to the music of the new CD she had just gotten from Amy Tippin, the other day. Will's sister had great taste in music. "Hello?" she said, pulling one ear phone out and picking up the phone.

"Hey, Hope. Is my charming husband there?"

"Hey, Tess. How are you doing over there on the other half of the ocean?"

"Not too bad. I just wish your father would find your mother. Then my husband could actually come home and help out his pregnant wife."

"How is the little fetus doing?"

"Don't call my baby boy that."

"You found out the sex?"

"Yeah, but don't tell Will. I wasn't supposed to know."

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him," Hope said with a wicked laugh. "I'll go get him. He was answering the door last I checked."

She set the receiver down on the counter, grabbed her sandwich, and made her way to the hall. Will was already making his way towards her.

"Phone's for you," she said, her mouth full once again.

"Door's for you," he said back, passing her without slowing down.

She danced along to the music playing in her ears until she caught sight of who was waiting for her in the front room. "Mom," she screamed, throwing her plate onto the nearest flat surface and running straight into her mother's arms.

"Hi, baby girl," Sydney said, who had been crying even before her daughter had seen her. She smiled at her husband over her daughter's shoulder. "It's nice to see you."

"How's Will been treating you?" Sark asked from where he was leaning against the open doorway.

"We're getting by. He's been teaching me a workout routine. There really isn't anything to do around here except play in the gym."

"You have gotten a little thinner," Sydney said, poking her daughter's arm. "Is he feeding you?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I can take care of another person," Will said, walking up where they stood. "By the way, Tess says hello, Syd. And she told me to tell Julian that he should expect a fairly large and generous birthday gift for letting me go home. I think she's tired of being pregnant and alone."

"I would be, too, if I was the size of a house," Hope said, laughing.

"I should tell her that. She would never talk to you again."

Hope stuck her tongue out at him, and Will repeated the action right back at her. "I'm glad to see how much you've matured while I've been gone," Sydney said with a laugh. She grabbed her daughter's hand and smiled. "And you're not that much better, young lady. Now let me go see where you've been holed up while I've been gone. Your dad needs to talk a little business with Will."

Strangely enough, Hope didn't put up that much of a fight about missing business talk like she usually did. It was probably due to the shock of finally seeing her mother again. The two men watched Sydney and Hope walk up the stairs, hand in hand, and out of sight.

"What's going on?" Will asked as soon as it was safe.

"Sydney's sister was the one who took her." Sark didn't hold back any of his bluntness. He had limited time to relay the information to his co-worker. Sydney could only distract their daughter for so long, even if she hadn't seen her for months.

"Nadia? I thought she was working for the Chilean government?"

"Actually, that was Argentina, and that ended a long time ago. She's running the Covenant now. Took over for Sloane when he died a few years ago. Sydney and I took care of her, though." When he noticed Will's shocked and appalled look, he rolled his eyes. "No, we didn't kill her. Jesus, Will. She's still family no matter how evil she is. You don't see us killing Irina at the drop of a hat if we think she's gone back to the side of evil."

"Irina's our boss. That's different."

"Potato. Potato." Sark shrugged. "Anyway, Nadia shouldn't really try to mess with us for at least a little while."

"Okay. So obviously you don't want me to be talking to Hope about who her aunt is anytime soon?"

"That would be best. She knows that Sydney has a sister somewhere out there, but she can't meet her. I don't want to have to get into the story about why half her family once tried to kill the other half. I'm saving that one for her fifteenth birthday." Trying to get back on track, Sark took a deep breath. "That's not the worst part, though. Nadia told us that Tyler Vaughn is going to be moving to L.A. in a few months. You haven't heard anything about that, have you?"

"No. But I really haven't talked to Michael or Lauren for months. My location across the ocean segregates me from the majority of our old allies. Tess and I barely talk to Amy, let alone the Vaughns."

"I don't see how such a major development could have happened without anyone on our side knowing."

"What major development?" Hope asked as she entered the room.

"That didn't take long," Sark pointed out.

"Mom saw some weird looking blade sword thingy. She muttered something about de nada. I didn't say thank you so I don't know what she was going on about." Hope darted a quick look at Will. He was definitely avoiding eye contact with her. "So, what were you talking about?"

"Nothing," Sark said. "Let's go find your mom. It's time for you to pack up and come home."

Hope nodded. "I'll be there in a moment. I just want to say goodbye to Uncle Will."

Sark looked suspicious but nodded, leaving the room. As soon as he was gone, Hope grabbed Will by the arm. "You cannot say anything to them about what we've been doing."

"You think I don't know that? Your parents would murder me if they knew." Will began to walk towards the door, but changing his mind, he turned back towards Hope. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?" she said, hoping she looked innocent.

"I mean, why did we do what we did? Why did you want to be trained?"

"I just want to be able to take care of myself if it comes down to it. It seems like my life is one big ball of danger. I don't want to have to rely on my parents to make sure I'm all right."

"That sounds really good in theory, but I know you're not telling me everything." Will grabbed Hope and pulled her into a head lock. "Now let's go. Your father is probably worrying about what trouble the two of us are getting into."

* * *

Tyler Vaughn threw his bags down on the floor of the apartment he was going to call home. It had taken him weeks to convince his parents that he needed this extra time to get used to the States before he had to start classes at UCLA. In the end, it had taken a lot of yelling and one well-timed threat, but at least they had agreed.

"Oh boy," he said, looking around.

The apartment looked exactly like one would expect a poor college student's home to be. The only noticeable difference was the massive security system positioned on the wall next to the front door. It had been his mother's only request when they discussed lodging. So, he had to live off-campus for his freshmen year. He could handle that, all things considering.

Picking up his bags again, he pushed the door to his bedroom open. To his credit, he didn't jump when he saw the woman sitting on his bed.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?" he asked as he dropped his bags next to the closet.

"My name is Amy, and I was sent here to make sure that you settled in just fine."

"Well, Amy, I have no idea who you are. So we have a little problem." Tyler crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why don't you just leave now before this gets out of hand?"

"Temper, temper, temper, little boy," Amy said, scolding him as she stood up. "You were a lot more likeable when you were a toddler."

His eyes widened. "You knew me when I was a toddler."

"Yeah. I worked with your parents." Amy walked over to him. "So, are you settled in?"

"I guess so."

Amy silently applauded him. His guard was still up even though she had made a personal connection with him. His parents had taught him the necessary tactics rather well. She might actually have to try in order to break down his guard. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a business card. "This is my cell. If you need anything, if you run into any trouble, give that number a call."

Tyler hesitated but eventually took the card from her.

"Be sure to tell your father that I stopped by to see you. And let him know that Irina and Jack want to talk with him about a few things. Seems your Daddy kept your arrival a secret from a whole lot of people."

"I asked him to do that," Tyler said before he could stop himself.

Amy smirked. His guard wasn't that good. "I figured. You just let him know. And be sure to check up on me. You don't want to be trusting strangers. It's an evil world here in the US."

"I plan on checking up on you," Tyler assured her.

"Good." Amy smiled at him. "You're looking good, kid. Don't be scared to call. It might not look like it, but I could probably help you with any problem you had."

Tyler nodded and waved as she walked out the door. This living on a new continent thing was going to be interesting. Sighing, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocked and dialed in his father's number. For this Amy woman's sake, he hoped that she was telling the truth.


	18. The CIA

Hope grabbed her cell phone and car keys, dashing out the door. "I'll be back for dinner," she yelled at her parents. She didn't wait for an answer. If she had waited, she would have been forced to write down every move she would be making in the next two hours. She understood why her parents were so protective of her, but she was seventeen years old. There was no need.

Plus, she could take care of herself. She had started with the simple skills her Uncle Will had taught her in the few months she spent with him three years earlier when her mother was missing. But she had built upon those skills every spare chance she had. Her parents still didn't know how good she was, and she didn't plan on telling them.

As soon as her eighteenth birthday came around, they would know, though.

She planned on marching right into CIA headquarters and demanding a job as soon as she legally could. That was a day she was both looking forward to and dreading. Her grandparents and her parents would kill her, but at least she'd finally be doing what she wanted to do.

And then she wouldn't have to sit back and worry about this damn prophecy on her life coming true. She could actively fight it.

Right on time, her cell phone began to ring. The skateboarder she had been seeing lately always seemed to call at the exact same time every day. It was slightly annoying. "Hey, Viper," she said into the phone, ignoring the display.

"Whoever Viper is, I am not him," the voice on the other end said.

"Well, then, who the hell are you and how did you get my number?" Hope asked, not fazed by the new development.

"I've been watching you for a few years now. You're very good at what you do."

"And you're very creepy and in deep trouble. My parents monitor this phone's frequency at all times. They probably have a team on the way to take you out right now. And that's not an empty threat."

"Knowing your parents, Hope, I don't doubt that. However, I took the time to block all the necessary channels. They don't even know your phone is in use."

"You're creepy," she reiterated.

"I get that a lot. It doesn't mean that you're going to hang up on me. If I know you, you're intrigued by me already."

"Yeah, I get that from my dad. What do you want, Mister Man?"

"I want to offer you a job."

She laughed into the end of the phone. "You are ridiculous. Amusing but ridiculous."

"Think about it."

As soon as she heard the dial tone ringing to signal the person on the other end had hung up, she threw the phone onto the passenger's side seat. Weird things had always been happening to her since she was little, but this almost took the cake when it came to weird. "I should probably tell Mom and Dad," she said to herself, cranking up the radio. She looked over at where the phone lay on the seat. "When I get home," she corrected.

* * *

Tyler gathered up his papers and gave his students a quick smile before leaving the classroom. Taking the teacher's assistant position for the communications department had been one of his better decisions in the past three years. He had worked hard to gain success at UCLA, and all he had gotten from it was an uncertainty of where to go with his life.

He thought being in the States would help him figure that out in a way that staying in Fiji would not.

Sighing, he nodded as a few of his students passed him. It was the group of girls who seemed to be present in the front row of all the classes he had been teaching since getting the assistant position. He wasn't stupid. He knew that they weren't there because they wanted to become communications majors. He knew that most of the girls in his classes just took them to be able to see him on a daily basis. It was something he mostly chose to ignore.

As he turned the corner, he was so distracted by the girls still giggling at him that he almost ran straight into the man standing before him.

"Sorry," he said, apologizing to the stoic man before trying to step around where he stood.

The man shifted so that he could not get around him. "Not a problem, Tyler."

His instinct kicked in, and he felt himself shift into a defensive stance. "How do you know my name?"

The man looked him up and down before smiling kindly. "It's good that you shifted into that stance so easily. Seemed almost effortless. Your parents must have taught you that."

"You know my parents?" he asked hesitantly, still not easing out of his position. This man wasn't really scaring him, but he still had no idea what was going on. His life had been such chaos for his first eighteen years. He had been slowly waiting for the relative calm he had achieved for his three years in California to be ripped away. He was waiting for the old chaos to come back.

"I'm their boss," the man said, holding out his hand. "Marcus Dixon."

"You're Dixon?" Tyler relaxed his guard slightly. "I've heard a lot about you."

"You don't fully believe I'm who I say I am."

Tyler stared for a moment. The man certainly looked like the Dixon his parents had described. But then again, there had been many stories by Lennox while he was growing up about traded faces and a certain program that ruined a lot of people's lives. Those were one of the few times when he could get information on the person his mother had been when she was still alive. Realizing that Dixon was waiting for him to respond, he put on his best smart ass grin. "Like you said, my parents taught me well."

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He held it out to Tyler. "Go ahead and look through. There should be a CIA id badge in there, driver's license, pictures of my family, pictures of me with your family. Plenty of proof I am who I say I am."

Tyler flipped through for a moment before his eyes rested on a picture. It was a rather attractive young girl with almost jet black hair. She looked about fifteen or sixteen. Her face was incredibly familiar. "Who is that?" he said, holding the wallet out so Dixon could see.

Dixon grabbed the wallet back harshly. "I'm not here to walk down memory lane with you, Tyler. You haven't spoken to your parents in months. They sent me here to talk to you about that."

Tyler could recognize a harsh, defensive tone when he heard it. However, he figured he would cut Dixon a break and not press the issue of the girl in the picture. "I don't need to keep up constant contact with my parents or with Lennox in order to survive. I'm twenty-one years old and graduating college. I can make it on my own."

"Your mother's worried about you."

"I'm fine. You can tell her that."

Dixon held out his hand and motioned for Tyler to walk. "She just wants you to talk to her. No one's really sure why you won't."

"They refuse to answer my questions so why should I answer theirs?"

"Because their questions are mainly about how you are doing. They just want to know that you're all right."

He took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. "I've spent so much of my life constricted that it's nice to have freedom for once. If I told my parents all the things I was doing and experiencing, they would just be scared for me. They would want me to come back to Fiji, and that's not something I can do."

They stepped out into the California sunshine and made their way down the walkways into the main quad of UCLA. "I understand how you feel. My life was constricted by my job for years. You learn subtle ways to work around it."

"Well, my life is constricted by my life. So there's no way to work around it. There's no real escape from life but death."

"This college has definitely been teaching you pessimism."

"It's the American way," Tyler said with a laugh. "Anyway, I'm doing just fine so you can tell my parents that you did your duty and not to worry."

"I need an update to give them. Your mother knows you're graduating. Tell me what you're going to do when you get out of here. Lauren and Vaughn would want to know."

"I don't know what I'm going to do. I figured I would move to Los Angeles."

"Now you know that's the one place your parents don't want you to go."

Tyler glared at him. "Maybe that's why I'm going. I'm tired of doing the things that everyone expects me to do. I want to start making decisions based on what I want to do. I want the freedom I was never given."

"You need to tread carefully with this, Tyler. Your life has an impact on more people than you'd care to know. You have to think wisely."

"That damn prophecy!" he screamed, attracting more than a few passer-bys attention. "I'm so tired of that damn prophecy. I will not live my life by some stupid old guy's words."

"People have tried to run away from Rambaldi before. You can't do it."

"So then what the hell am I supposed to do?" Tyler half-screamed, half-pleaded.

"Find a way to make it work for you, I guess." Dixon sighed before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small paper rectangle. He held it out to Tyler. "Come to this address when you've graduated in a few months. Tell them that Marcus Dixon sent you with his personal recommendation."

"What is this?"

"Your free pass into the CIA."

Tyler's eyes widened. "The CIA?"

"Your parents are going to kill me." Dixon sighed and threw up his hands. "This seems to be the only solution, though. You're determined to defy your parents. Your parents want to make sure you're looked after. The only way you can be looked after in L.A. is by me. So, I'm going to keep you close. They might kill me for it, but I can't think of anything else to do."

"I can believe this is happening." Tyler's face was still full of surprise and awe. "I've dreamed of being a CIA agent since I was a little boy. I never thought it was possible. I never thought I could come up with a way to actually do it."

Dixon shook his head. Tyler was already getting ahead of himself. "I never mentioned anything about being an agent. You have to earn that right."

"So, you want me to be a paper pusher than? Filtering your calls and being your personal secretary so you make sure that I don't get into trouble?"

Oh, he had the temper of both his parents. That was for sure. "No, nothing like that. When it's time, they'll set you up as an analyst. You'll be evaluated. Maybe after some training and a hell of a lot of practice, you can become an agent. You have to earn that," he repeated.

"But it is possible."

"It is. It's how your father became an agent. He had to earn it even though his father was one of the agency's best in his day."

"There are no free rides," Tyler said, echoing the words his father had instilled in him practically from birth.

Dixon nodded. "It's the truth. Now go back to what you were doing before I interrupted. It seemed like a nice normal life."

"My parents?" Tyler asked the obvious question.

"Leave that to me. Just enjoy your freedom for now. When you're done here, you are going to become a slave of the United States government."

Tyler laughed and began to make his way back to his apartment on campus. He had exams demanding to be graded. No matter if he was going to become a CIA agent someday, those papers still needed to be graded. And suddenly it didn't seem like such a daunting task.

* * *

Hope pulled up in the driveway at ten o'clock that night. She knew that she should have come home in time to eat dinner with her parents, but that weird offer by that man kept her driving for hours. She was trying to think about what it meant. She was also trying to avoid dwelling on the fact that it wasn't almost too good to be true.

"Where the hell have you been, young lady?" Sark asked from his position sitting on the porch stairs.

"Driving," she said, taking a seat down next to him. This hadn't been the first night that she pushed her parent's boundaries. It seemed like no matter how hard she tried, curfew was never really followed. She was a free spirit, just like her father.

"Things to think about?"

"Tons."

They sat there in silence for a few moments.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Your mother's going to be mad if I don't yell at you for a bit, Hope."

"I know," she sighed. "I just wish you didn't have to."

"Me, too." She could feel his tone and expression shift and braced herself for impact. "But what the hell were you thinking, young lady? Driving around without telling us where you were going or who you were going with! Did you think you could just do whatever the hell you wanted?"

"No, I just had a lot of things to think about."

"And you're going to have a whole lot more once your mother and I have decided your punishment."

They both turned as they heard laughter drifting from the front door to where they sat on the porch. Sydney was standing there watching them. "That was the crappiest yelling I have ever heard, darling." She took a seat between her husband and daughter. "This is why she thinks I'm the mean one."

"You are the mean one," Julian corrected.

"Because she had you wrapped around her finger."

"I do," Hope pointed out.

"That's not helping you in any way," Sark pointed out. "So, Sydney, what do you want to do with her? Yelling isn't going to work. She's too stubborn."

"I want her to tell us what was so important that she had to drive around for half the day thinking it over." She looked at her daughter expectantly. "Spill."

Knowing that she could probably lie and be done with this whole uncomfortable situation, she decided that for once she wanted to tell the truth. For once, she wanted to be able to talk to her parents about the things that she wanted. The things that she felt like she needed. "I decided what I wanted to do with my life today."

"So what is it? Rocket scientist? Brain surgeon? Lawyer?" he teased.

"I want to work for the CIA," she said, bracing herself for a more thorough yelling. She knew by telling the truth, she was signing her death warrant.

"Nope."

"No way."

"I don't think so."

"Why?" she yelled, standing up. "You two have been subliminally telling me that the CIA was off limits as a career path. But I never got a reason why. I have a right to know why I'm being restricted."

"Because it's dangerous," Sydney supplied. "And it takes a lot more concentration than you have."

"I have plenty of concentration," she defended.

"Now when you're fighting for you life every single day."

"I'm not fighting for my life."

"You might not realize it, but you are," Sark pointed out.

"The prophecy about you, Hope. It's creeping up." Sydney hated reminded her daughter of the fact that her life was planned out already, but avoiding it wasn't going to make the prophecy go away.

"It's a bunch of bullshit. I can handle myself."

"Oh can you?" Sydney said, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "Please enlighten me."

"I have your talents and Dad's. I'm practically a pre-programmed spy. All I need is an agency to work for. I figured the CIA would be the only one you would let me look into."

"Honey," Sark said, standing up and grabbing her hand. "You just can't be a part of the CIA. It wouldn't work, and they know better than to recruit you. It's not an option."

Hope was tempted to tell them about the phone call she had received earlier but felt herself holding back. For some reason she wasn't sure she wanted to share that fact that she could get a job as a spy without trying. She also wasn't sure she wanted to explain who she had gotten good enough to be receiving job offers. "You think that I'm not good enough, don't you?"

"You haven't been exposed to any sort of fighting style. We haven't been teaching you anything. For good reason! It's a hard road to take. You don't have the time or energy "

"You don't think I'm good enough." It wasn't a question this time. It was a realization. And Hope found that it stung a lot more than she thought. "I'm your own daughter and neither one of you believe in me enough. You think that I'm not good enough to be a spy."

Sydney rolled her eyes. "You sound a lot more confident that you should be. You don't even know if you're cut out for this life."

She wanted to scream at them that she was confident because she had known for years she was as good if not better than them. She wanted to yell about how Will had started to train her up to the level of the CIA when she was fourteen. She wanted to scold them for not noticing.

Instead of doing any of that, she stood up and pulled the car keys back out of her pocket. "I need to drive and think some more. I won't be out late. I promise."

"Hope. We still need to talk about this."

"We can when I get home." With that, she started walking down the driveway. When she made it a few yards away from the porch, she turned back to look at them. "I've been living the life of a spy for years. You dragged me from one place to the next since I was a baby. I've learned how to keep myself out of the public eye, to keep myself from being noticed. I've been a spy without an organization to work for. I don't see why it's so dangerous for me to want to put my life experience to such good use."

"She sounds like a thirty-year-old woman," Sark observed as Hope started walking away again.

"This prophecy has placed the weight of the world on her shoulders. Of course she sounds mature for her age."

"That's now what I meant. She sounds defeated. Almost like she knows life had dealt her a losing hand and there's nothing she can do to change it."

Sydney just stared at her daughter as she walked to her car and got in. She had no idea when things had gone so wrong with Hope. They had a good, solid relationship, but she suddenly felt like she really didn't know who her daughter was at all.

* * *

Hope looked in her phone's memory and hit redial. She took a deep breath as a familiar voice answered. "Hi. I'm going to accept that offer you gave me." 


	19. Agents

Tyler took a deep breath and checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. His tie was still straight, and there didn't seem a hair out of place on his head. He had no idea why his appearance mattered so much to him right now, but it did.

Sighing, he opened the door and stepped out of the car. "Then again, it's not every day that I graduate to full CIA agent status."

Three years had passed by quickly since Dixon had given him his break with the agency. He had put in countless hours of meaningless prep work for agents, praying that one day the people in his office would be doing the same for him.

His parents had warned him that there was a good chance he would never make it to full status. He wouldn't doubt if they had paid off the US government to keep him out of the field. They still weren't comfortable with what he was going with his life.

He was starting to get really tired of hearing about that stupid prophecy. It was ruling his life still, even though he was convinced it was never going to actually occur. He rubbed his pounding temples gently as he walked through the parking garage and to the elevator that led down to the basement. The last thing he needed was a headache. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, the door beeped and slid open.

Tyler nodded to the woman already inside and turned forward after pressing the 'B' button.

"Going to the basement?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah," he said without turning around.

"Me, too." She paused. "Hey! Don't I know you?"

Tyler turned around and looked the woman over. She was middle-aged, looked pretty fit, had a small scar running along one cheekbone, nice smile, eyes that seemed to be mocking him. And she looked vaguely familiar. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Come on. Do you go to Divello's Coffee Shop down on Third? I'm there every Wednesday."

"No," Tyler answered quickly. He couldn't figure out why the hell the elevator was taking this long to go down to the basement.

"Are you sure? I know I know you from somewhere."

Tyler didn't respond this time. He had enough to be nervous about without having to make polite conversation with some whack-job woman who thought she knew him.

The elevator shifted to a stop, and the woman pushed past him to hit a series of the buttons. Within seconds, the doors slid open. "You have a lot to learn, Tyler, if you couldn't even recognize me. I made it easy on you."

He watched in amazement as the woman pulled off her glasses and her hair which turned out to be a blond wig. Bright red hair spilled out. "I know you!" he yelled.

"Told you." She stuck out her hand for him to shake. "Amy Tippin. I met you six years ago or so. I offered you my help and gave you my number. You never called."

"You work for the Agency?"

"Where do you think I met your parents?" she said with a laugh. "Marcus sent me up to give you your first test as an agent, and make sure you didn't set off any alarms before getting down here." As an afterthought, she added, "You'll learn the codes for the elevator soon. Pinky swear."

"Good to know."

"I can't believe you didn't recognize me. I didn't even ask for makeup to cover up the scar. The Agency said you were ready for this."

"I am."

"That will be decided soon enough."

"Hey, Ame!" yelled a short man from one of the corner offices. He ran out into the hall in a rush.

"Marshall," Amy said, a grin spilling across her face. She waited for the man to come over to where she stood. "Marshall Flinkman, this is Tyler Vaughn."

"No," he hissed, his eyes going wide. "Lauren and Michael's son?"

"Newest agent of the CIA. Tyler, this is Marshall Flinkman, the best gadget guy you will ever meet. And one hell of a cook, might I add!"

"My parents talked about you a lot," Tyler said, ignoring the fact that Amy's compliment had made Marshall blush profusely. "They used to joke about all the missions you got roped into going on."

"I'll have you know that I saved their lives and Syd's at least ten times."

"Ixnay on the Ydneysay," Amy said, grabbing Tyler's arm and steering him down the hall. "There's a few things you'll find that we are not allowed to discuss. Former agents are one of them."

"That makes no sense. I know all about my Aunt Sydney."

She shook her head and chuckled. "Sure you do, slugger." Amy pushed open a door and shoved Tyler into the conference room. "I got him here in one piece, Dixon. Do I get a gold star?"

Tyler felt a little bit of his nerves disappear when he saw the familiar face of Marcus Dixon staring back at him. Maybe he wouldn't screw this up completely.

"Tyler. How are you holding up?" Dixon motioned for him and Amy to join him at the table.

"Okay. This is all very intimidating."

"I know the feeling. Every time I started at a new agency, I couldn't eat for days."

"I had breakfast this morning," he said absentmindedly.

"Stop the polite chatter," Amy whined. "I want to hear what you've cooked up for the kid's first mission. They sent me to Tangiers for mine. It was crazy. I must have almost died like twenty times within the first hour of being there. And I only had to blow up two buildings to get home safe."

"Good to know." Tyler turned to Dixon. "Am I going to die? Because I don't know if I signed up for that."

"No dying on this mission. I assure you," Dixon said with a laugh. "It's really tame. We want to make sure you're field ready, that's all." He slid a folder across the table to Tyler. "Those are your specifics. We need you to infiltrate a facility in London. It's a current cell of the broke-down K-Directorate that's been trying to reassemble themselves the past few years."

"K-Directorate? I thought that the CIA eliminated all threat of their reassembling when they made that stupid mistake of kidnapping that civilian ten years ago."

"Civilian, my ass!" Amy interrupted with a laugh. She threw her feet up onto the table. "The day that Syd is a civilian is the day that all evil has been eliminated from the world."

Dixon rolled his eyes. "I wish that you guys would stop divulging national secrets without approval. Especially when they have something to do with a Bristow or Lazarey."

"Sorry. I keep forgetting that the kid isn't in the know yet."

"The kid is sitting right here," Tyler reminded them.

Amy turned and nodded at him in a slightly patronizing manner. "Forget everything I just said, honey. If you don't, they might stick you to a desk with no hope of going on missions. I've seen it happen before. It's not pretty for any party involved."

Tyler's eyes widened in horror, and he looked at Dixon. "Is she serious?"

"No. Amy, go do that follow-up work on your last mission that you've been avoiding for the past few days."

"Well, a girl knows when she's not wanted." Sighing, she stood up and left the room, throwing a little wave over her shoulder. Tyler heard her muttering something about burning the paperwork instead as the door slammed shut.

Dixon watched as Tyler continued to stare at the closed door long after Amy had left the room. "You'll get used to her," he said with a laugh. "Eventually."

Tyler snapped out of his thoughts and blushed. Why was he so easily distracted lately? "I'm sorry. You were talking about my mission."

"This splinter cell is desperately trying to find some sort of influence over our government. We think they're hacking into the files MI-6 has compiled on our current operations. We have to know for sure if the cell has gotten anything they can use against us. That's where you come in."

"Is it going to be hard?" Tyler asked hesitantly. He knew that it was a rookie thing to ask, but he didn't care. He wanted to know what he was getting into.

"No. You just have to go in posing as a business man. Find a computer terminal. Hack in and see if there's anything useful. You shouldn't meet any sort of resistance."

"What do you mean shouldn't?"

"This New Directorate, as they taken to calling themselves, has a few good agents that might be at the site when you arrive. If they recognize you as a CIA agent, you might have to fight your way out of the building. That shouldn't be a problem considering you got one of the highest scores ever on the physical portions of the CIA entrance tests. Higher than your father, might I point out."

"How come that isn't quite reassuring enough?"

Dixon laughed. "Relax. It's typical for a rookie's first assignment to go off without a hitch. That whole Tangiers assignment with Agent Tippin was a fluke."

"That really happened?"

"Yeah. She's a little bit of a legend around here." He pointed back at the dossier. "Your flight is going to leave for London in a few hours. Use your time before that to familiarize yourself with the people you'll be working with in the future. If you get too nervous, go talk to Marshall. He's usually good for a laugh and some great gear to take with you on the mission."

Tyler just stared as Dixon left the room. Things were going way too fast for him already. Maybe his father and mother had been right three years ago when they told him that getting involved in the CIA would be too much for him at the moment.

He really hoped he could do this.

* * *

Tyler sat back and watched the device Marshall had given him scan through the files on the computer. His mind kept replaying what Marshall had said about the agents he might encounter.

It seemed that Dixon had been playing down the danger that he was in if one of the New Directorate's agents found him here. Marshall had explained that the top three agents of this cell had been terrorizing the CIA for three years now.

There was Maverick, who seemed to get happiness from discovering an agent's identity and then blowing up his house of residence. That was only after he destroyed all the people that the agent cared for. Maverick had a thing for pain.

The second agent, Deathstrike, screwed with the CIA's computer system in some form on a weekly basis. The glitches she installed had already taken the lives of four dozen agents in the past year.

Finally, there was Black Widow. Marshall had explained that no agent who had ever encountered her could describe what she was like. It seemed like she wiped their memories clean when she was done wiping the walls with their bodies.

To quote Marshall, "if you meet the Black Widow, you're pretty much dead."

Tyler closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking about it. He had almost gotten all the potential ways he could die in the next ten minutes out of his head as gunshots started ringing through the halls. Luckily, Marshall's device also chose that moment to beep an affirmation that his job was done.

He ripped it from its connection and dived under the desk just as the door burst open. There were sounds of a struggle and a few more gunshots before he heard the door slam shut. For the life of him, Tyler could not figure out what the hell was happening.

"Shit."

He took a deep breath and did his best to try to gather information without being able to see what was happening, just like they had taught him in training. The voice sounded like the intruder was about sixteen and definitely somewhere were she was not supposed to be. She sounded frightened.

"My mother is going to kill me if I get bullet holes in her favorite jacket. How the hell am I supposed to get out of this one?"

Okay. Maybe she wasn't frightened.

Tyler moved an inch in order to see around the desk. There was a woman standing against the closed door, looking rather panicked. Her actions would have made him assume that she was someone who could possibly be on his side or at least be an innocent bystander of the chaos. That is, if only she wasn't wearing a mask and currently reloading a gun.

Firearms didn't usually signal allies.

He wondered if there was any way he could sneak out of the room without her knowing. He didn't even have time to think about a potential escape route when she started talking again. Only this time, she wasn't talking to herself.

"Before you do something stupid, I want you to know that I'm aware you're behind that desk. You breathe heavily. Makes me think you're nervous. Were you doing something you weren't supposed to be?"

He drew the gun out of the holster at his side and stood up. "Who the hell are you? What the hell are you dong here?"

"I could ask the same of you." The woman ripped off her mask, and long, red hair spilled out. Tyler froze for a moment. She was attractive. And definitely not sixteen.

She gave him a wink. "Hi, Mr. Hottie. I'm Ana. But you can call me Black Widow, for short."


	20. Ana

The Black Widow was staring down the barrel of her gun at him, and all Tyler could think was how gorgeous her eyes were and how bright her smile was.

He knew that he should probably be focusing on the fact that she was threatening his life in a way by pointing said gun at him. He knew that he should probably be thinking over the short years he had spent on this earth considering he probably wasn't going to make it home alive.

He definitely did not need to be wondering who this woman was during the daytime when life wasn't all secret assignments and espionage.

"This is about the time when you tell me who you are in return, slugger," she said, breaking into his thoughts. She raised an eyebrow at him when he still didn't answer. "Anytime would be good. I'm not the most patient person to point a gun at you."

"Sorry. My name is Tyler." He was practically cursing his words as they came out of his mouth. Giving her his real name was not the right thing to do. Even a rookie knew that.

"Good." She lowered her gun. "Now, Tyler, how do you suppose you're going to get me out of this sticky situation?"

"You're used to having other people get you out of jams, aren't you?" he said hesitantly. He really didn't know what to do with this new development. Enemy agents hadn't been a part of the mission Dixon had given him. And there had definitely been no talk of pretty enemy agents.

Though come to think of it, he had heard his father mumble a time or two that the ones threatening your life were always pretty. Poetic irony or something equally ridiculous.

"I use the resources I come across," she said, responding to his question. "Now I ask you again. What are you going to do?

"Why are you so sure I'll help you? It looks to me like you have the problem and not me."

She rolled her eyes at him and took a step towards him. "Well, I am pointing a gun at you. As much as I'd like to keep this little exchange pleasant, I could just shoot you in the head."

The shift in her tone took Tyler by surprise. She might like to banter while on the job, but this agent was definitely tough. He probably should help her before she made good on her threat. Or at least before she asked him who he worked for and what he was doing in this off-limits room in the first place.

Her easiness at finding him in this room hacking into a computer of the organization she worked for willingly was making him nervous. That and the way she was smiling at him even as she threatened to shoot. "Well, Ana, if I knew what sticky situation you got yourself into, maybe I could tell you how I can get us out of this."

"It seems my employers don't agree with the choices I've been making of late. Guess I'm getting a little too independent for the normal clone agents they have. Not falling into line when they tell me to and all the jazz. They fired me in the usual way of sending a squad of hit men after me." She opened the door an inch and peered out into the hallway. Turning back to meet his eye, she shrugged. "I didn't feel like dying today."

"Me, either," he admitted. "Which is why I'm not getting involved with you. You're trouble. With a capital-" She held the gun up at his head again. "-You've-Got-A-Gun-Pointed-At-My-Head."

"It's a good form of persuasion, no? Walk." She pushed him out into the hall. "So, Agent Tyler, how about your employers? Think there might be a job for me? It seems that I find myself unemployed at the moment."

Tyler gave her a quick once over. That little scrap of cloth she seemed to be calling a dress was definitely illegal in most countries, and the way she was casually scanning the hallways definitely indicated she had been doing this kind of thing for a long time. Too experienced and too dangerous for the CIA. "I don't think they could handle a girl like you."

"That's what my mother and father always used to say."

"Used to?" He groaned as he realized that his questions were getting too personal. Stupid rookie mistake. Personal could get you killed. Even if she seemed to be an ally of sorts at the moment, he really didn't want to know anything about her. She could just as easily turn out to be the enemy. She probably would end up shooting him in the head just to keep him quiet about how she escaped.

He suddenly wondered when such a simple rookie mission had gone so wrong.

"Now is not the time to get into my mommy and daddy issues, honey." She pushed open a door on their right and walked into dark stairway. She punched out the glass of a nearby fire hose case and wrapped it around her arm, tightly. "Now take a deep breath and follow me. It looks like it's all on my shoulders to get us out of here. Try not to get killed."

She grabbed his arm and wrapped the cord around it, too, before tucking her gun into the holster on her thigh and clutching to his body. "And try not to get me shot at. This jacket has to get home in one piece."

The next thing Tyler knew they were flying down at least twenty flights with only a flimsy hose to slow their fall.

* * *

Ana was presently surprised by the man currently making an effort to untangle himself from the fire hose. He hadn't screamed once. Not even when she had yelled that she really wasn't sure how they were going to stop before hitting the bottom. He had simply braced himself for impact and even went as far to try to take as much of the impact himself as possible.

A gentleman in the world of spies. Will wonders never cease?

Pulling her gun out, she took off at a run, pausing only a moment to call behind her, "You can either follow me or not. It's up to you."

She was pleased to hear his footsteps behind her as she pushed open a door and ran into the parking garage attached to the office building.

This Tyler character was really surprising. He was clearly new at the whole spy business, but still, he wasn't half bad. Maybe she would really have to check out if his organization was hiring. Working along someone as attractive as him wouldn't be such a bad thing. Almost made her consider decreasing the fee she charged just to make sure she saw him again. Almost. Hey, maybe she could even convince her new boss to make them partners. Yeah, she could think of quite a few ways to work off the adrenaline at the end of a mission if he was her partner.

"Shit," she muttered, realizing she had lost track of where they were going.

"If you're lost, I think I can help you," Tyler yelled from beside her. He had caught up to her without her noticing. She really needed to start keeping her head in the game considering they weren't out of the woods yet.

Her eyes rested on where he was pointing. A rather sporty looking car was parked a few feet from the other standard SUVs and four door coupes.

"That's my ride," he informed her.

"You really shouldn't have told me that," she said, slowing down and giving the car an appreciative once over. "Can I drive?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not even sure I should be offering you a ride."

"I just saved your ass back there," she pointed out. "You owe me one."

"You had a gun pointed to my head most of the time. I think we're even."

"Fine, hunky savior of mine. What do you want as payment for a lift?" She knew that the sarcasm mixed with a sexual undertone would definitely get his blood stirring. It was her secret weapon whenever she got into herself into a bind. By the time he realized that she wasn't going to give him anything his perverted little mind could imagine, he would be lying on the side of the road unconscious.

"Just get in the car." He pulled the keys out of his pocket. "And I'm driving because I don't want to end up a body lying in the gutter."

She let out a little laugh. So, she had been right about him being smart. That didn't surprise her. What surprised her was that he wasn't going to give in to her come-ons. The way he had been staring at her earlier really made it seem like he was entertaining some indecent thoughts about what exactly they could do once they got to safety.

She could be wrong, which meant that, well, she was just going to have to try a little harder.

"But I'd do anything to drive a car like that." She stroked the hood of the car slowly and smiled at him. "To feel that power beneath my body. To really open her up on the road. Oh god, I bet this baby has some kick to it when you get it over one-fifty."

"Hell yeah. But you're not going to find out. It's my turn to be in charge."

"Hey, I gave you the chance, but you had no idea how to get us out of that hallway." She guessed the debate was over because he ignored her taunt, walked over to the driver's side, and slid into the car. "Can I at least get the last name of the guy who's decided to be my knight in shining armor?"

"No way. I shouldn't have even given you my first."

"Rookie mistake," she said once she had joined him in the front seat.

"That obvious?"

"Only slightly. You're pretty good for a rookie." She took a moment to enjoy the feeling of acceleration as Tyler eased them out of the parking garage and into the light of day. "So, why the hell are you giving me this ride?"

"The same reason you didn't shoot me in the head." He chanced a glance in her direction, and she knew he caught sight of the blush on her face. "I really don't understand why you didn't. Because, rookie or not, it's what I would have done if I was in your place. An enemy agent is an enemy agent."

"Some enemy agents aren't always enemies. They can turn out to be a hell of a lot more," she said absentmindedly. When he gave her a funny look, she realized that she might have let herself get a little too personal there. He didn't need to know her whole life history. "An enemy's enemy is your friend. This whole world is twisted, kid."

"Why do you keep calling me kid? I bet I'm older than you."

She shrugged. "Years versus experience. It's the age old question. I'm a much better agent than you, but I'm willing to bet that I'm younger."

"How young is younger?"

She paused, wondering if she should be talking so openly with this guy. She didn't even know who he worked for. He could be CIA or something. That would not be good on so many levels. "I'm legal. That's all you need to know."

"Legal to what? Drink? Drive? Vote?"

"Legal enough to do whatever perverted crap you've been fantasizing about since I burst into your little op." He smirked at her words, and she was happy to see that she had been right. He had been staring at her before. "Not even going to deny it?"

"You have to expect it when you dress like that."

"Shit. I forgot about this ridiculous excuse for a dress." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do they make the women you work with wear these barely-there outfits, too? Because it gets demeaning after a while."

"Yeah, they do. We live in a chauvinist world, Ana."

"Damn straight."

"You're just going to have to deal with it."

"Yeah, I guess so. Money's money no matter what they make me wear." She looked out the window a moment before turning back to stare at him. "So, you're not taking me into custody or anything silly like that, are you? Because I'd like fair warning if I have to make a run for it."

"I should do something like that, but then you might go back to threatening to shoot me in the head. I don't think you'd like that, and I know I definitely wouldn't like that. So I figured I would just drop you at the nearest Metro station. You seem resourceful enough to take it from there."

"Good plan. The only problem is we've passed at least two or three already."

"We were having some pleasant conversation. I didn't want to interrupt by kicking you out of the car you were dying to ride in a few minutes earlier."

"Thank you, but I was only dying to drive it. I've ridden in cars like this since I was a toddler. My dad--" She shook her head. "Never mind. There's another metro station up ahead. Pull over."

She felt both relief and agitation when he did as she asked. Granted, it meant he was letting her little slip of the tongue go by without question, but he was also eliminating her slowly increasing suspicion that he just wanted to take advantage of her in the back of his car now that she had gotten him out of the line of fire in his assignment. He really had meant to take her to a metro station.

What a pity. She could have used a little fun.

"Hope you enjoyed the ride even though I wasn't stupid enough to let you drive," he said as he pulled the car to a stop.

Choosing not to respond to the reemergence of the driving/riding topic, she simply turned to him and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled even though he made no move to stop her.

Okay, maybe a little fun might still be an option. Too bad she had already killed her mood with that stupid driving comment.

"I can't walk around London in this dress. At least, not unless I want to be mistaken as a prostitute by every pervert and cop out there. I need your shirt to cover up."

"That's great for you, but how the hell am I supposed to explain why I lost my shirt on my mission? I'll be labeled as the rookie who couldn't even keep his clothes on during a simple snatch and grab."

"Tell them the truth. A rather attractive woman asked for it, and you couldn't refuse. You seem as chivalrous as they come. They'll believe you." She pulled the shirt down off his arms.

"You're just lucky that I'm wearing an undershirt."

"And a bullet proof vest! You really are a Boy Scout, aren't you?"

"Always be prepared."

She pulled the shirt on and buttoned it up before exiting the car. "Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime."

She gave him her best sexy smirk before making her way to the metro station in front of them. It was weird how comfortable she was with this total stranger. She had never really been able to relate to any of the other agents she worked with. It seemed from the way he had acted that it was the same for him.

Which was why she wasn't surprised to hear him calling her name. However, she was pleasantly surprised to realize that his voice seemed to be giving her goosebumps in all the right places. Maybe her playful mood hadn't completely disappeared. Fun still might be had by all.

"Yes?" she said, turning to smile at him again.

"You forgot your jacket," he said, holding the article in question out the window at her.

She laughed and made her way back to the car. "Wouldn't want to do that."

"No. Your mother would probably be mad."

Still smirking, she grabbed the jacket out of his hand. "You heard that, did you?"

"I heard all of what you said. I was trying to catalogue every bit of information you volunteered in a search for any weak spot in your armor."

"Any luck?"

"None so far."

"I think you're stalling, Tyler," she pointed out, narrowing her eyes at him in playful suspicion.

"I think I might be."

She rolled her eyes and leaned in on the open window. "Let me give you a little advice before we part ways. The whole knight in shining armor business looks really great on paper, but you kind of miss out on all the fun."

Laughing, she waved goodbye to him as she made her way down the stairs to catch the next train. She really hoped that the next time she saw him in the field, he was a little less uptight. A guy who looked like that could be just what she needed to keep this game interesting.

* * *

Ana let herself into the rather spacious house she had been calling home for the past few years and threw her keys on a nearby table. Her bags were thrown into a corner. The slightly-beaten up jacket she had been so concerned about earlier was deposited on a chair as she made her way to the kitchen. Missions always made her hungry. There really hadn't been time to grab food on her way home.

She had been late catching her flight because her temper and pride seemed to get the best of her again. She couldn't just let that stupid agency think they could walk all over her. Plus, that building was getting rather run down. Her returning the day after they had tried to kill her in order to set those explosives was practically doing them a favor. She had cleaned up the mess she had made the day before, and now it can be rebuilt from scratch.

Sighing, she grabbed a half-eaten sandwich out of the refrigerator and took a seat at the counter. A good explosion also made her hungry. That might explain why she felt like she hadn't eaten in a month.

Turning back to her thoughts, she tackled the other reason why she had made such a rash decision which could have brought unwanted attention her way. She couldn't let the spy agencies out there that she worked with think that they had the upper hand. She was the best there was in the field, and she didn't want to be grouped with those sissy agents who couldn't even take a proper punch. So many people assumed that she worked for the CIA because of her accent, but she wanted to make it clear that was not the case. She was better than that.

It was slightly ironic, considering the first mission she ever went on she had thought was with the CIA. Within minutes, she had realized she was wrong, but she finished the job anyway. She hadn't been in it for the protection of state. She had been in it for the thrill of the hunt.

And so began her wonderful career of covert freelance work.

The door slammed shut, breaking into her thoughts before she could travel farther down memory lane.

"Hi, honey," yelled a man's voice from the front hall. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen," she called back. "Sorry I didn't clean up my stuff. I just got back from my trip to Dallas."

When there was no immediate response, she realized the stupid mistake she had made when she came in. Her realization took place at the same moment her mother's voice rang through the house.

"Hope Anastasia Lazarey! What the hell did you do to my favorite jacket?"

She cringed and turned to watch the sun set in the Los Angeles horizon. "It's going to be a long night."


	21. Bloodlines

Hope found her father sitting on the couch in their living room surrounded by paperwork. It had taken her all day to get him cornered alone. She had never noticed how much time he spent with her mother until she wanted to have a private discussion with him. There were some things that you knew your father, unlike your mother, would not pick up on. "What are you working on?"

Sark looked up to smile at her. "Work stuff."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously! Anything you can tell me about? I beat I would have a fresh outlook on it."

"Not really."

"Am I still going to die in a fight to the death?" She tried her best to peak at the papers in his hands, but he pulled them away with a glare.

"Yes."

She shook her head. "It's a harsh life for me."

Sark laughed as he pushed some of the papers discretely out of the way so that she could sit beside him. "Sydney would kill us if she heard us joking about that prophecy. She still frets about it day in and day out."

"You have to make light of the hard things in life."

"When did you get so wise?"

"Always been."

Sark grabbed a pile of papers and a highlighter. "These are safe for your young eyes. Start going. I need any mention of Project: Nitro highlighted."

"Cheap child labor. I see how it is."

"Exactly."

"And I don't even get to read the good stuff."

"No way. Now what is it you wanted to talk about? Because I know you don't just show up like this unless you have something you want to ask."

She figured there was no real way to ease into what she wanted to know. Plus her father might appreciate her coming right out and asking. And if she did that, he definitely wouldn't figure out the real reason she was asking. "I just wanted to know how you managed to have a relationship with an agent from the other side."

No matter how oblivious he might be, Sark still gave her a funny look. "That was random."

"I just don't see how it was possible."

"Have you become an agent and fallen in love with someone from the other side?" he teased.

She shook her head and hoped he hadn't noticed if she had blushed slightly. There were just some things you really couldn't tell your dad. Especially when he was a spy for the U.S. government. "I was just curious."

"It was hard. And I did have to give up a lot of my old ways. But your mother was worth it. And I've never regretted it."

"But how do you bridge that topic with someone? Did you say something like I know you and I aren't on the same side but I'd be willing to change my whole life for you because you're just that good-looking?"

"There was more to it than my physical attraction to her," he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. This conversation was not going the way she wanted it to. "Whatever."

Sark reached over where she sat and grabbed a few files. "Besides, I didn't pursue Sydney."

"You didn't?"

"Believe it or not, she pursued me, kid."

"But she was on the side of the good, fighting those that had crossed over to the dark side."

"Like me?" he said laughingly before resounding. "And she wasn't going to let them dictate her life. She's strong-willed that way. She decided that she wanted me and wouldn't take no for an answer."

"So she was willing to give up her life for you?"

"Yes. But I didn't let her. It would have bothered me every day if I had known she gave up everything she loved just for me."

"Was that because you knew that she was working for a group that was bettering the world?"

"Mostly. Your mother had gotten in with the right crowd, it seemed." He shook his head. "We just ignore that whole SD-6 phase of her life."

"For good reason," Hope agreed. She finished highlighting the last page of the group of papers she had been given. "So, let me get this straight. You think it's all right to change your life for someone you love as long as you know that you're not compromising who you are and that you're not making them give up something that is right for them."

"Um. I'm pretty sure I wasn't being that profound, but sure. That's exactly what I was saying." He took the papers back from her. "Did that help?"

"Sort of." She shrugged and stood up. "Now I have to go. I think my job with the bank is going to end soon. I don't want to be unemployed."

"If only you were combat-certified, I'd get you a job with the CIA."

"Now that Mom would really kill you for." She winked at her father before leaving him to his work.

Just as she reached the door, he called out her name. "Have you given any more thought to applying to college? You graduated high school over a year ago. Now that your job with the bank might be done with, maybe it's time. I hear UCLA has a good business program."

She gave him a small smile. "We'll see, Dad."

The door clicked softly as it shut behind Hope. Her father's words had actually helped her a lot more than she had let on. Somehow she was going to have to figure out how to start doing more freelance work for whomever this Tyler character was working for. Hopefully that wouldn't make the world a worse place to live in.

Though something in her gut told her that this whole thing was going to go horribly wrong somehow.

"First you have to figure out how you can see him again," she whispered to herself. "Which also means that you need to figure out who the hell this guy is and if his name really is Tyler."

This research thing was going to take forever.

* * *

Tyler sat staring blankly at the computer screen listing name after name as he had been for the past hour or so. There was tons of paperwork to be doing for his first mission to England, but every time he tried to work on them, he ended up daydreaming about the Black Widow. Eventually, he just gave up trying to pretend like he was doing work.

He really wished that he knew more about this Ana character. Like who she really was and how she got a job with such a shady organization when she didn't seem like all that bad a person. And if she had a boyfriend.

Okay. He had no idea where that came from.

"Who are you thinking about?"

Amy's voice snapped him out of his thoughts abruptly. She was standing next to his desk with a rather amused look on her face. He hoped that he had contained the majority of his blush from her inquiring eyes. "I was just doing my work, Amy. You know, all that fun paperwork Dixon likes to encourage us to do."

"Yeah right," she said with a laugh, perching on the corner of his desk. "Paperwork, my ass, kid. So tell me. What really went down on that rookie mission of yours? Office gossip has not been as reliable as normal for me, and you've been staring off into space since you got back to the office. In the CIA rulebook, that means something happened."

"It was a really hard mission. My first one in case you forgot."

She smirked at him. "Come on, honey. You can tell your Auntie Amy what really went on. Haven't you heard? I'm the cool agent in this division. Did you ever hear about the time I had an elicit affair with the Prime Minister of England just to make sure that US-England ties stayed strong? The things I do for my country."

"You're full of crap."

"Yeah, I am. Should have known that one wouldn't have worked."

"You're a married woman."

"I always forget."

"So I think I have a crush on an enemy agent."

Tyler almost laughed at how shocked she looked. "Say what?"

"Black Widow. She's an operative of the New Directorate. Or at least she used to be. I ran into them trying to assassinate her for attempting to quit while I was on my mission. I helped her get out. Or rather she helped me get out and I gave her a lift to the nearest Tube station."

"If I had known a little joke about my illustrious spy career would get you talking, I'd have done it sooner."

"Well, I guess I just realized that if I could tell anyone, it would be you. You told me that I could come to you with anything and everything that day you broke into my UCLA dorm room."

"I did. And you can. So, who is this Black Widow?"

"That's the problem. I don't know more than her name is Ana. Or least she told me her name was Ana. I don't really know where to begin looking for more." He pushed his head into his hands and closed his eyes. This was starting to give him a headache.

Amy sighed. "You said that she was working for the New Directorate?"

"Up until a few days ago, yeah."

"Then your best bet would be talking to Prisoner 847 down in Cell Block C."

"Prisoner 847?"

Amy leaned over closer to him. "Don't let Dixon I told you this because it was supposed to be confidential. But then what is really confidential around here, right?"

"Your point, Amy. Your point."

"Nadia Santos is Prisoner 847."

"Aunt Syd's sister? When did she get taken into custody?"

"About five years ago or so. She kidnapped Sydney. That is what's known as a major spy world faux pas. The only reason Julian Lazarey did not kill her was because of her connection to Sydney."

"But how did she make it to CIA custody? Sydney's no longer affiliated with us."

"Well, that's the thing. Syd is kind of still involved with the CIA. We have a black ops division."

"I knew it!"

"You cannot tell anyone about it. The only reason I know is because my husband and brother are both a part of it."

"Noah and Will?"

"Yeah. There are five agents only doing the most dangerous, shady work that CIA has. Noah, Will, Sydney, Sark, and an ex-K-Directorate agent, Anna Espinosa."

"She's a legend."

"Yeah. Irina was pretty found of the work she did back in the day, and Sark was always fond of her."

"She's the enemy, but she's respected. I think the CIA has issues."

"Don't dwell on this new information. Focus on your goal, kid. You want to learn more about an agent of the New Directorate? Ask Nadia Santos."

"Why would she be so helpful?"

"Because the CIA has suspected her of running the New Directorate while she's in our custody."

"She's running an enemy agency while being in US custody? That's ridiculous."

"The ridiculous has become normal for us."

Tyler nodded in agreement and leaned back in his chair. "So how do I get to see Nadia? I know for a fact any prisoner over a 700 designation is authorized personnel only."

"Well, it involves a little stealth and one well-made roast beef sandwich. But I think we have both of those covered."

"We?"

Amy laughed. "I'm helping you out with this one, kiddo. You need an expert to get in to see Nadia." Giving one last laugh, Amy walked away to start getting the necessary actions into motion.

* * *

"Nadia Santos," Tyler said, leaning against the white, unbreakable Plexiglas window that held the prisoner in captivity. He hoped that he sounded brave and not a little bit intimidated. Because he was. Intimidated. And scared, to be completely honest.

"Mr. Vaughn. You look exactly like your father."

"I get that a lot."

"What brings you here to see me?"

"I want information on one of your agents. The Black Widow."

"One of my agents? The Covenant has been hanging in limbo since I got locked up in this cell."

"Since you kidnapped your own sister, you mean." She just shrugged and continued to star at him intently. "You don't have to lie to me. The CIA is well aware that you have been running The New Directorate even though you are in our custody. We just didn't let on because we weren't sure how you were doing."

"And now you do?"

"And now I don't care if the CIA ever learns how. I want the information."

"Why is it so important to you?"

"Why does it seem you're only physically capable of asking me questions?"

Nadia chuckled. "You are a lot less stoic than your father. It must be your mother's influence on you. You know she would have made a fine agent if only your father hadn't had such a strong influence on her."

"We are not discussing my family."

"Fine. What do you want to know about the Black Widow?"

"Who is she?"

"She's the best agent in the world right now. I have never seen anyone who can fight as well as she could. Not even my sister or mother. She's lethal even if she has nothing to fight with but her hands and she's tied to a chair. It's like watching a ballet to see her go to work."

"I agree," Tyler said absentmindedly.

"So you've seen her in action? Good."

"Good why?"

"Good because I think you two could work well together."

"Yeah. Tell me how to find her and I'll get right on that. Word on the street is she's looking for new employment now that you've tried to kill her for leaving your agency."

"Damnit!" Nadia said, standing up abruptly and punching the brick wall. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!"

"Something wrong?"

"I could kill Weiss. He's always making these damn decisions without consulting me."

Tyler's heart dropped out at the mention of Weiss's name. "Weiss as in Eric Weiss? As in the man stuck in Cell Block B under heavy CIA protection because he tried to kidnapped me when I was young? As in the man who tried to take out half the CIA agency?"

"As in the man helping me run my operations. He's really talented, you know. Another agent that was just wasted within the CIA."

"So, Weiss tried to have her killed?"

"He has negative feelings towards her that date back a long time. Sometimes he goes a little overboard."

"Is there any prisoner in our custody who is actually a prisoner?" Tyler demanded.

"I mock the CIA for its inefficiency because that is what it is. So, have I answered your question? Because if we're done, I would really appreciate you leaving so that I can do my yoga. I can't concentrate if I'm being watched."

"No. I want more information on Ana."

"It's Ana now? You two did get awful close really fast."

"What is her last name?"

"Santos. She's my daughter."


	22. Groceries

Hope groaned as she slapped her cell phone closed. She had no clue why, but her boss from the New Directorate wanted to keep her in their employment. The whole attempted assassination thing was a mix-up, or so she was told. Some stupid guy who had some vendetta against her.

Personally, she didn't care if that was the truth or not. She just wanted out.

It still bugged her slightly that she wasn't sure she was working for the people she should. She had known rather quickly that she wasn't working for the CIA in those early days, but she still hadn't quite figured out the impact of the missions she was paid to do. However, she eventually started tohear about the repercussions of the things she had done. The gossip didn't bode well for her.

And yet she couldn't give it up. If she did, her only option would be to join the CIA. Her parents would still never agree to that. Hell, her parents still didn't even know she was a spy, let alone a spy working for the people they were trying to apprehend on a daily basis.

She had no clue how she had hid her other life from them for so long. They knew the Black Widow existed. In fact, a few times she had run in to them in the field. Once they had even been sent after her to apprehend the greatest spy in the world which she was quickly becoming.

Luckily, she had had some advance warning, considering her father was positively glowing about getting such a good assignment for days before they actually had to track down and capture the Black Widow.

She had let them hunt her down. Let them almost feel her in their grasp.

And then she had just disappeared.

She hated to be the one to cause her parents to have a failed mission, but she really didn't want to have that conversation with them about why she was the Black Widow. They would probably blame themselves for raising her in such a fragile world.

That stupid prophecy was still controlling her life. She hated it.

Her mind ran through the little she knew about her possible death. She and her parents had made a pact not to discuss it unless absolutely necessary a few years back. That had made their lives a little less stressful. But the downside was she couldn't ask her parents questions about it.

That wasn't good seeing as how she was beginning to forget critical pieces of information that she should probably remember.

She couldn't explain to them that when she started working for the New Directorate they had given her a small implant in the back of her neck that would systematically block out memories that interfered with her performance. And by given, she meant being knocked unconscious only to wake up to a throbbing in her head and a new scar to display.

Turns out the idea of her predicted demise was making her hesitate at critical moments. So it was blocked out.

And she was operating in the field almost completely blind.

She didn't even remember the name of the person she was supposed to fight. Which made her treat every single person she came into contact with an enemy and potential killer.

There was no easy way to make friends when you think they're going to kill you at every turn. So that's why she had stuck mainly to her family and the small group of people who had been around to insure she was raised in safety. If she didn't remember someone from before she started working with the New Directorate, she didn't let them in. She couldn't let them close.

Cursing softly about how much her life sucked, she made her way into the grocery store that was down the street from the little house she called a home when she wasn't staying with her parents. Sydney and Sark hadn't been happy when she demanded a little freedom, but they had allowed her to find this place she now called home. She spent the majority of her "work week" there due to its close proximity to the bank she had an imaginary job at.

During the weekends that she was not called away on a business trip, she returned to the small house in the hills of California that her parents had called home for a few years now. It was comforting to have the opportunity to give up the façade of hardened spy and to be able to just trust the people around her. To know that they were not going to cause her harm.

She shook her head as she browsed the cereal aisle. She had no idea when she had gotten so deep in the spy world. One day she was going out on her first solo mission, and the next she had a brain implant and was fighting attempted assassinations. If she could only tell her mother what her life was like in order that they might compare. It would be fun to see if Hope beat the great Sydney Bristow in the bizarre department.

Grabbing a box of the most sugary cereal she could find, she turned to make her way to the next aisle. At least she would have left the aisle if she hadn't ran headfirst into the man standing behind her. "I'm sorry," she said, picking up the box she had dropped.

When the man didn't extend the same courtesy, she finally looked up at him. "Tyler."

"Hi, Ana. Fancy meeting you here."

His voice sounded cold, which surprised her. The last time they had talked, he had been all out flirting and joking with her. "I do eat, you know," she said, waving her cereal in front of his face. "So it shouldn't be that big a surprise to find me purchasing food."

"You're right. Even evil spies have to eat."

"Ouch," she said, grimacing. "Your words wound me, and I don't even know why."

"I did a little research into who you were. You have some surprising connections to my life."

She rolled her eyes. "Imagine that."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I have connections to practically every active spy. It runs in my family."

"A family of spies," he said. "I did find that out."

"We do what we're good at. Now if you excuse me, the frozen foods are calling my name. I can't get enough of those mini pizzas."

She pushed her way past Tyler and walked down the aisle, making it all the way to the end before turning back to look at him. She was happy to realize that he was still watching her. Not knowing whether or not she wanted to get into this with a CIA agent, she opened her mouth to say something but then promptly changed her mind and shut it. This occurred at least three or four times in rapid succession without her making a definite decision on whether or not she should let this Tyler character have it.

"Is there something you wanted to say?" he asked her, smugly, obviously pleased at what his cold words had done to throw her off.

"I was just curious as to why the hell you are being such an ass to me. What did I ever do to you?"

"You didn't tell me about your connection to Nadia Santos."

"You didn't tell me that my personal information would cause you to be a dick. We both held things back." She stomped over to stand in front of him and poked his chest hard with her right hand. "Why the hell do you care, anyway? We've only met once."

"And you almost got me killed."

"You did just fine. You're above the normal caliber of CIA agents."

"Are you trying to get me to come to your side?" He suddenly gasped in a mock of some sudden realization. "Oh wait. That's right. You don't still work for them, do you? You don't even have a side anymore. Makes it a little harder to figure out if you're a good guy or a bad guy when you wake up in the morning."

"Actually, I do still work for them, so I guess that makes me a bad guy. At least in your eyes, apparently. Not that it matters, but the only reason I'm still employed by the N.D. is I seem to be under a contract I can't quite get out of. Why? You thinking about switching sides? Want to know if the benefits package is good?"

"No. I kind of like working to make the world a safer place. To each their own, I guess."

Hope growled softly before turning on heel and yelling back over her shoulder. "I don't take abuse from people like you normally."

"And who do you suppose a person like me is? Since you really seem to want to throw me into a stereotype," he said as he ran after her.

"A stuck-up CIA agent who can't understand that maybe there are reasons why I'm doing what I'm doing. You didn't even give me a chance to explain. You just assume."

"Then give me a chance," he said.

Her heart skipped a little beat at the small smirk he gave her. She didn't know a look like that could be so sexy. "You want a chance to do what?"

"Take you out to dinner."

She shook her head. "I thought you were the good agent. Good agents don't ask out bad agents."

"This one does." His eyes scanned the freezer they were standing in front of until they obviously hit whatever it was he had been looking for. Reaching into the cold, he continued to talk. "I'll have you know that bad agents usually say yes when they get propositioned."

"And you want me to be a bad agent, don't you, Tyler?"

"Yeah. It makes things a little more exciting."

She laughed loudly. "You are definitely not the typical CIA agent."

"I take after my father. He didn't really like to follow the typical expectations that the CIA set."

"Guess I'm not the only one to have a spy family then."

"No. It's highly common these days. So? What do you say?"

"My daddy told me to never go on dates with strangers. And Mr. Secret Agent Man, I don't even known your last name."

"It's Vaughn."

The name made her do a double take, but she had no idea why. Hesitantly, she said, "Tyler Vaughn. That has a familiar ring to it."

"You've probably heard my name from your mother."

She tried to focus but felt the familiar buzz at the back of her neck. Something was being blocked out again. Damnit. She really hated this stupid spy job.

But on the bright side, all she had was a chip in her head. At least she hadn't been abducted for two years and declared legally dead only to return to life to find that everyone has moved on including the man she thought she would love for the rest of her life.

"So? How about giving me a chance to ask for that explanation?"

His words pulled her out of her thoughts on what her mother had gone through in her early days of being a spy. This guy was serious. He really wanted to throw caution to the wind.

That little notion made her eyes sparkle. She had no idea why, but talking to this guy made her happy in a way she hadn't been for a long, long while. Which is why she found herself, against her better judgment, saying, "All right. I'll do it."

"Good." He tossed her the box and began to back his way out of the aisle. "Meet me at Trattoria de Nardi."

Hope stiffened at the mention of one of her mother's favorite restaurants. Now that was a strange coincidence if she had ever lived one. "But that's in Rome."

"Yeah. You're resourceful, though. Figure out a way to get there. I'll be waiting for you at ten o'clock Italian time."

She shook her head as he disappeared around the corner without another word. This was definitely not where she thought this little encounter would end up. After all, he had been so cold and mean to her when they first bumped into each other. She still had no idea what that had been all about.

Something told her it had to do with her Aunt. Her mother had never really talked about Nadia Santos and what had caused her sister to do such mean, heartless things to Hope's family. It was a sore spot that they all chose to ignore.

But obviously it was important enough to get a man who obviously was intrigued by her to want to hurt her with his cool words and hidden meanings. She would have to try to get more information on her aunt before her date.

Before her date. Now that was just weird. She didn't think she would get over the fact that she had said yes, but at least she felt the shock of having accepted a date with a CIA agent begin to slowly fade away. It was as this occurred when she realized that she still had the box he had tossed her in her hands, and it was beginning to drip.

"Pineapple and bacon mini pizzas." She let out a surprised laugh as she read the box. "Now how the hell did he know this was my favorite?"


	23. First Date

Hope shut her umbrella and handed it to the maitre d' almost automatically. She suddenly realized she was standing in the doorway of the best restaurant this side of Italy going on her first date in over a year. She found herself wondering what she had gotten herself into. She could see Tyler sitting at a table, looking impatient and nervous at the same time. He obviously hadn't expected her to show up.

That was pretty smart considering ten minutes earlier she hadn't even been sure herself.

Hell. She still wasn't sure.

Almost on cue, he looked up and saw her. "Ana!"

She gave a small smile and ignored the small voice in the back of her head pointing out how hard it would be to start having feelings for a man who doesn't even known her real name. "You look nervous."

"I wasn't sure you were actually going to show up. And then when I had convinced myself that you would, I was sure that you were going to be showing up just to take me hostage or something."

"You never know where the night will lead us," she said with a wink.

He stood up and pulled her chair out for her. When she had sat down, he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "By the way, you look beautiful."

"You would have liked it better if I had worn one of my little mini-dresses I save for missions, though. Admit it."

He shook his head. "Not every guy loves a scantily-clad woman."

"You prefer…"

"My women with clothes on their body."

She nodded as the waiter came over and put an end to their opening banter. Tyler began to order drinks for them in Italian, and even though she knew he was probably required to speak multiple languages by the CIA, she had to admit he was impressed.

"You sound like a native," she whispered as soon as the waiter was out of earshot.

"My family always stopped over in Rome when we made the trip to see my mother's family in England."

"Family in England? That must be nice. I always wanted to live in England when I was little."

"And where did you live?"

"Here and there. Everywhere actually." She let out a laugh as she remembered how much she had hated to move. "As my mother would say, there were extenuating circumstances."

She saw Tyler flinch at her casual mention of her mother. It didn't make sense. He worked for the CIA. Sydney Bristow was a legend and a hero around those parts. He should be gushing about the fact that he was on a date with the prodigal daughter of such a woman.

Maybe it was her father that made him so concerned. She frowned slightly at the idea of having to defend her father. Anyone that knew him knew that he was a good man. She had gotten tired of defending him to all those who didn't know.

"Ana." Tyler's voice cut into her thoughts.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I was telling you about the little town outside London that my mother grew up in. I thought you would find it interesting."

"I would." She smiled. "I do. I'm sorry."

"No problem."

The conversation lapsed into an only partially uncomfortable silence as the waiter brought over a bottle of wine. Hope noticed that it was definitely a rather expensive vintage. She had gotten her love of wine from her father. That love would probably grow in a year or two when she could actually legally drink. But that wasn't something she was about to mention to the man sitting across from her.

"I have a question," Hope said after the waiter had left. "If your mother's family was in England, why did you always make a pit stop in Italy? It seems like it would be out of the way."

He smiled at her. "I didn't always live in the States. I spent most of my life living in Fiji."

"Fiji? Like the island?"

"Yes. The beautiful tropical paradise."

She shook her head and grinned. "There's so much I don't know about you, Tyler Vaughn."

"Is that necessarily a bad thing?"

"In our line of work, yes. We shouldn't even be out in public with one another unless we knew that it wouldn't hurt us somewhere in the end."

"Considering we're both aware that we're on opposite sides, I think we already know that this is going to hurt somewhere down the line."

"You don't mind?" she asked.

"Do you?"

Hope simply leaned back in her chair and stared at him. Again, the waiter came over to interrupt them for getting into the areas of their lives that were probably better left alone. They both knew that what they were doing was not the smartest thing. But it seemed like it was hard to remember most of the time.

"So how'd you get away from work?" Tyler asked.

"You know evil agencies. They're not really that strict." She smirked. "I actually called in sick."

"You can do that?"

"Yeah. Turns out I have a really good vacation package. Plus they're lost without me. Have to keep the talent happy."

He chuckled. "I cannot believe we're actually talking about this."

"Why not? My life is an open book. To an extent, that is. I don't want have to get into any of those grey areas and then have to kill you. I just had this dress dry cleaned."

"I'm glad you did."

He reached out and grasped her hand across the table. For a second, she let him. She let herself forget who she was and all the baggage being Hope Lazarey brought to her life. She forgot that he was CIA and she was… not. She forgot that she still didn't know him. That she should be wary of him. That she shouldn't be so dangerously comfortable around him.

But then the warnings her father and mother had given her all her life sounded in her head and she remembered the danger she was putting Tyler Vaughn in just by talking to him. Ignoring his hurt look at her sudden decision to pull away, she asked him, "What are we playing at? This can't be happening. It's not safe for either one of us. No matter how much we ignore it, we can never really let each other know who we are. And neither one of us is stupid enough to give up our lives to let this continue. So we might as well just save ourselves the trouble and pain."

Before he had a chance to respond, she gave him a small smile, stood up, and began to make her way to the door.

"Crap," he muttered as he stood up to race after her. He knew this was going to be hard, but really, he had thought the hard part would be getting her to show up in Rome. He hadn't known it would be this hard to get her to stay with him.

He caught her right as she was about to step outside into the pouring rain. Grasping her arm, he spun her back to face him. "Don't I have a say in this?"

"No." She glanced down at where he held her arm and then shot him a glare. "If you don't let me go, I'm going to show you what a big mistake bruising me can be."

The thought that he might be actually hurting her made him let go immediately and take a step back.

"Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me."

"You're not excused," he said, slipping around her and blocking her getaway route. "I don't want you to leave until you tell me why you're so scared."

"I'm not scared," she growled, crossing her arms in front of her. "I'm pissed off and annoyed."

"Oh, I agree. You are definitely pissed off and annoyed right now. But you're also scared of something. I want to know what."

"I'm scared that you have a team of CIA agents outside waiting for the signal to swoop in and destroy my life."

"That's bullshit." He was happy to see her mouth drop open in surprise at both his words and his harsh tone. "You're trying to say what you think I want to hear. But that isn't it. I just want the truth. Can you tell me the truth?"

She bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling, trying her best not to start crying. No one had seen through the walls she had put up over the past few years. No one had ever been able to pick up on the fact that she was hiding so many things let alone that it was tearing her up inside.

No one but this CIA agent.

"I'm scared that you're going to realize the mistake you're making and that you're going to walk out of this. I'm scared that when you figure out the kind of work I really do, things that I'm not proud of, you're not going to stick around to let me explain." She rubbed the tears away as quick as they could fall. "But mostly I'm scared that if I actually start to let you in, you'll go running from me screaming when you figure out how truly screwed up I am."

He shook his head and walked over to pull her into his arms. "I'm not going anywhere, Ana. You don't have to worry. Our situation might not be the most ideal, but it's what we've both chosen. We both showed up on this date, knowing that there really isn't any logical reason why. It's our problem, and we can bear the burden of it together."

After Hope had calmed down a little, Tyler led her over to the bar. He ordered two glasses of bourbon. "I think we need to move to the hard stuff if we're going to get through tonight."

She laughed. "I think you're right."

He held his glass up to hers in a toast. "Is there anything else you want to tell me about before we go back to our table?"

"Yes. I'm also scared that my mother is going to find out what I really do for a living. She doesn't know that I'm a spy."

"Actually she does. I talked to her at work the other day. She knows what you've been up to."

"You sound as if she was happy with it."

"She is. She told me so herself."

Hope shook her head. There was no way her mother was cool with her being a spy, especially for a shady organization like the New Directorate. It made no sense. "I don't care what you say. I want you to promise me that you won't talk about me to her. You can't mention what I do or that you're even seeing me at all."

He held up his hand. "I promise. I won't say a word to your mother about you. What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Good." Hope held her hand up and ordered another round. "Is there anything you want to tell me in return for all my confessions? Any deep dark secrets you're dying to tell someone?"

He shook his head. "My life is pretty tame. You could find out pretty much of all of it if you just did a little research."

"I hate research. Tell me something that will save me some time. Make it interesting."

Tyler thought for a moment before turning to her. "I grew up with your cousin."

"I didn't know I had a cousin," Hope said.

"I doubt she knew that she had one, either. She lived a rather sheltered life because of who her mother was."

Hope's mind flashed to the little memory she had of her Aunt Nadia. If Nadia had actually had a child, then she probably would be overprotective and keep her locked away from the world. Of course, she would be molding her into some super evil spy. But she would also be sheltering her from the rest of the world.

"So you two grew up in Fiji together? I didn't even know my aunt was living there. I thought she was--" Hope caught herself before she could say in prison. "--somewhere else."

"I told you before. I didn't live in Fiji all my life. I moved around a lot."

"I can see that. My aunt has a lot of people who want to take her into their custody."

"That's what you get when you're as good of a spy as she is."

Hope nodded. She still vividly remembered the day she had come home to find her mother missing from their home. Her screams echoed through her ears, and she felt herself shiver.

"Why don't we drop this topic and move back to the table? I think our food should be just about ready."

She nodded and went to stand up. Her eyes caught on an elderly man standing at the end of the bar. Something was odd about him. She had noticed it before, but right now, it seemed extremely important that she understand what it was.

"Tyler. Does that man look…" Her heart stopped. "You bastard," she whispered.

"What?" he said, looking at her confused.

She reached down under the hem of her dress until her fingers felt the class of the gun holster she had attached to her thigh earlier. "I believed you when you fed me all that crap about us taking this risk together."

"I was telling you the truth." Tyler still had no idea what was going on.

"Then why is there a CIA agent sitting at the end of the bar?" She pulled the gun behind her back discretely. "I couldn't place him at first. But then I remembered the last time I was in Colombia. There was a CIA agent who kept trying to catch me in the act of the current job I had."

Tyler looked down at the man at the end of the bar. He did bear a slight resemblance to Agent Brooks, but it definitely wasn't him.

He didn't have time to dispute her claim, though. The old man noticed them both staring, pulled out a gun, and began firing. It was all Tyler could do to push Hope behind the bar where they could have at least some shielding.

Gunfire erupted from where the man had stood and a few places around the restaurant.

"Why are they shooting at you, too?" she yelled over the noise of the gunshots.

"Because they're not CIA." He pulled a gun out of his shoulder holster. "Are they yours?"

"I don't work with anyone but myself. Things are easier that way." She paused to pop up from behind the bar and let off a few rounds. Sitting back down, she turned to him. "So if they're not mine and they're not yours, then who the hell are they?"

"I don't know," Tyler screamed. "But I don't want to stick around to find out."

She pointed to the door leading down into what she guessed was the wine cellar. Nodding, he followed her across the floor and through the little opening. They ran in silence through the massive racks of wine and liquor for a few minutes until they came upon a door.

Hope kicked it open and rolled her eyes at the down pouring rain. She looked back at the man standing behind her. "You sure know how to take a girl on a first date."

"Contrary to popular belief, not all of my dates are this eventful." He flinched as gunfire continued sound in the restaurant above them. "My father is going to kill me for getting his favorite restaurant shot up."

For a second, she contemplated pointing out the sheer strangeness of the fact that both of their parents considered this restaurant their favorite. She squashed that little impulse fast. It seemed that every time she tried to talk about her family, Tyler got all uptight and upset. She didn't want to go through that again right now.

Tyler grabbed her hand in his and gave it a small kiss. "Hang on."

The next thing she knew she was dodging raindrops through the streets of Rome with a CIA agent who seemed to know a little too much about her family for her own good.

And strangely enough, she was the happiest she had been in years.


	24. Flight Plans

Hope rolled her eyes as her cell phone started to ring and she recognized the number. "I'm still waiting for my flight back to the States. I left you ten minutes ago."

Tyler laughed on the other end. "I know. I just wanted to make sure you enjoyed our trip."

"You know that there's probably one of our agencies tracing this call right now."

"No. I made sure it wouldn't be that easy."

"Planning on calling me often?"

"Now that you've finally given me your number, hell yeah. I'm a guy who needs constant validation. And speaking of, you haven't said if you enjoyed your trip."

"You just took me for a picnic on the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was cheesy but much appreciated. And one hell of a fourth date."

"I really wish that you and I could just go to the deli down the street from my apartment in L.A. It would be a whole lot easier and a hell of a lot more meaningful."

"I told you that would be more trouble than either one of us want to get into."

"That's debatable. You're starting to teach me to like trouble."

She ignored his playful attempt to keep their conversation light. "Tyler. We've been over this every single time I agree to see you."

"I know. You cannot let this get too serious. You cannot let me get too close to your dangerous life. You cannot let yourself have a little bit of fun for just one second of one day."

"Screw you," she hissed, snapping her phone shut. She only had to wait two seconds for it to start ringing again. She didn't give him the opportunity to yell at her for being so temperamental. "Listen up. You don't know me or the way my life is. I have things in my future that I constantly have to deal with. I just can't throw caution to the wind and do what I want. There are consequences."

"You speak as though the whole world revolves around you." She could hear him biting back him temper. It was that kind of intelligence that kept making her say yes to his advances.

"Sometimes it does," she said with a laugh.

"I have things in my future that aren't so pleasant."

"But you won't tell me what they are," she pointed out. "You and I can't let the other get that close. It's dangerous. For you and for me and for everyone we loved." She breathed in deep and let it out slowly. "Now. I think that's enough of the arguing. Can we go back to discussing how you can't even wait an hour after saying goodbye to me to call my phone?"

"Pathetic, I know. But I have never met a girl like you before, Ana. You understand the parts of my life that I really can't even tell you about."

"It's the spy dynamic, sweetie. If you ever dated any other girl who was an agent, you would see it's the same."

"No, I don't think so. I think this has something to do with the girl I'm dating being you."

"Maybe you're just sex starved," she purred.

"You might be right. My girlfriend hasn't even kissed me yet."

"Girlfriend?" she spit out through her shock. She had never really been referred to as that before. Not once in her life. It was scary and exciting at the same time. She found that very interesting.

"Don't try to change the subject. You haven't let me kiss you."

"Not for your lack of trying," she said with a laugh.

"Why haven't you?"

"Because the thought of you repulses me," she deadpanned.

"Ha ha. Very funny."

There was a few beats of silence between them before she got the courage to answer him truthfully. "Because you were right, Tyler. I can't let you get close to me. It's only going to end badly."

"You've already played our relationship out in your head?"

"And it ends badly. People in my life have a habit of dying."

"That's because you live in a spy world."

"How many of the people you love have died?" When he didn't answer, she went on, "How many people in your life have had to live through the trauma of being shot at?"

"Quite a few, actually. Spy family, remember?"

"How about traumatic kidnapping? I bet you haven't had one of those."

"I do have one of those," he said simply. "I was kidnapped by my father's best friend when I was little. You probably weren't even born yet."

"Stop talking like you're that much older than me." The teasing came out before she could even stop herself. She knew that she should be focusing on the fact that he had actually trusted her enough to tell something about his life that was so personal. It was little things like that which were chipping away at the armor she had erected over the past few years. Which was obviously why her sarcastic teasing defense mechanism was kicking in.

"Five years is a lot."

"All right. Then end this. If you feel like a cradle robber, then let's stop before this gets ugly."

"It's phrases like that which make me think you're only keeping me at a distance for your own sake and not because you're afraid my knowing you will kill me."

She was thrown off by his rather dead-on insight. "I want to let you close regardless of whether you want to risk this or not, Ty. I really do. But I just can't."

"I see." She could hear his frustration even through the phone lines.

"I want to kiss you more than anything. Hell, it's all I can do to keep control of myself when I'm around you. But it's for the best."

"So you're in control when I'm not around? You don't ever think about me when I'm not with you?"

"Stop digging for compliments. You know that I think about you when I'm not supposed to be just like I know you think about me. I let myself lose control sometimes when you're not around."

"When it's safe, you mean."

"Yeah. It's easy to imagine what could be when it's not right in front of me." Hope shook her head. She had no idea why she was telling him all this. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was miles away from her and couldn't actually tempt her into doing anything she might regret.

"So how much control do you have over your libido right now, seeing as how I haven't been around for about 72 minutes now?" he asked.

The sexy, gravely tone of his voice was definitely making her nerves stand on end. And she was pretty sure that was the desired effect he was shooting for. "Not a hell of a lot."

"Good."

Her ear rang with a beep as she stared down at the phone. He had hung up on her. Just like that, he had hung up on her. He had warmed her up and then left her high and dry.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Before she could figure out even one possible answer to that question, someone grabbed her arm and spun her around. Later she would swear that she knew it was him which was why she didn't take him out. It wasn't because she was too distracted by his words on the phone to think of what the proper reaction would be to such an invasion of physical space.

And it definitely wasn't because his lips were on hers before she had time to even register what was happening. She could feel him smiling at her even though he was already occupied in showing her what a fool she had been to not want this to happen. And so she let herself go for a fleeting moment.

She felt a small nibble on her bottom lip, and she realized that somehow he was hitting all the right spots that would make her want to permanently forget that they were on opposite sides of the law. How did he know her so well after only four dates?

She really should have done this sooner. If she had known it was going to be this good, she probably would have. To hell with common sense and doing what's right.

Eventually, though, her sensibilities did come back at least partially, and she pulled away. Shaking her head, she felt her hand came up to touch her lips without even realizing why she was doing it. "Tyler Vaughn. You know we're in a public place. Our bosses could be watching."

"I don't care. I've wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you."

Her eyes went wide as he gave her that sexy grin and started to inch his mouth down to the curve of her neck. She bit back a moan, instead choosing to whisper. "You and I are in so much trouble."

"I know," he whispered before pulling her into another kiss.

Trouble didn't seem that bad of a thing anymore.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Hope waited patiently to make sure Tyler had completely left in order to finish up the mission the CIA had given him in Paris. She still thought it funny that he had taken time off from work just to go on a date with her, an enemy agent. Granted this was purely a stakeout kind of operation for him. But still, he obviously wasn't staking out if he was eating lunch with her.

He had begged her repeatedly to put off her flight back to L.A. and stay with him in Paris for the rest of his mission.

She had told him no, no matter how much she really, really, really wanted to stay. Because she would have given anything and everything to stay.

But in actuality, she was giving him anything and everything by not staying with him.

By leaving right now.

Sighing, she went up to the ticket counter. "Hi. I have a ticket here for L.A. that I need to return."

"Okay. Would you like to exchange it for another, ma'am?" the young attendant asked.

"No. I already have a ticket for Berlin." Smiling, she watched the young man process the return of her ticket home and hoped this would all be worth it.


	25. The Flood

Hope could hear words pounding through her head and could see images flashing even though her eyes weren't open. Yet she found that she couldn't focus on one. It hurt too much. And it made no sense.

And then her vision cleared and she was slammed with one image.

"Tyler Vaughn!" she screamed, sitting up and looking around wildly. The words continued to echo through her head as she tried to get her frantic breathing under control.

Tyler Vaughn. Tyler Vaughn. Tyler Vaughn.

That meant something important. There was a connection there. She just couldn't reach it.

It took her a moment to get herself under control to the point where she was no longer shaking and her mind had calmed down. She took a look at her surroundings. She was in a bed in room.

"Okay. Get more specific," she said, sitting up. Her head immediately started pounding and she winced. "Sitting up. Not an option right now. All right."

She moved her head slightly. There was a window to her right with a door on the wall opposite it. Two possible escape routes should she need them. She had a funny feeling, though, that she hadn't been kidnapped or coerced.

'God. Can this room get any more white?" she said. The walls were white. The bed was white. Hell, she was even in a white dressing gown.

The door opened and a small woman let herself into Hope's room. "I see you've woken up."

"I'm confused," Hope said.

"You will be. These procedures usually take a lot out of the patient."

"Procedure?"

"And apparently they cause memory loss. You call me up, Miss Lazarey, and told me about your situation. I offered to reverse the problem, and so you came to Berlin. You don't remember any of this?"

"No." Hope tried sitting up again and was happy to feel the dizziness stay away. She had always been a fast healer.

"Do you remember having that implant be placed in your head by your employer?"

"Yes." A light went off in her head. "I got you to remove it."

"Yes. It wasn't too complicated. You didn't tell me your reasons."

Hope's mind immediately jumped to Tyler. That must have been why she had his name on her lips when she woke up. She had done this for him.

Not that that really made any sense.

"I don't remember anything new, Doc. It seems to me like whatever you didn't really stick."

"First off, you can call me Dr. Vander. Or Angela is you wish. Second off, the effects aren't going to be automatic. That would be too traumatic to your system. You should be returned to normal within the next hour or so. It'll feel like a nagging suspicion that you've forgotten something important at first and then things will start coming back to you."

Hope narrowed her eyes at her. "How much have I told you about my situation?"

"Little to none. By my request, actually. The less I know, the easier it is for me to avoid kidnapping and imminent death."

"Biting sarcasm. I can see why I picked you to do this."

Angela smiled and walked over to stand by the bed. "So you look like you're doing fine. Has anything new come back to you?"

"I woke up saying my boyfriend's name. That's new. I usually don't acknowledge his existence."

"Don't we all wish we could just forget our boyfriends sometimes?" Angela said with a laugh, checking a few of the machines next to the bed.

Hope was about to correct her and explain that she actually wanted to be able to tell everyone about Tyler but there was that whole spy mess thing. But she thought better of it and merely sat still while the doctor went through her obvious post-operation routine.

"So. Do I have a scar somewhere on my body that I should know about? Because I'm going to have to come up with a good lie if I do."

Angela laughed. "There's a little bit of burning from the lasers I used to disintegrate whatever got put into your head."

She held up her hand to stop the doctor before she continued. "Lasers? Beamed into my head? Two questions. Why would I let you do something as crazy as that? And when did my life become the sci-fi movie of the week?"

"You said the exact same thing when I intro-ed how this procedure was going to go. But the way you put it, you really didn't have the time to go find a more believable method to get it done."

Hope nodded. She liked this Angela character, but there was still a nagging feeling inside of her that kept telling her not to relax. That there might be something a little too odd and convenient about this whole scenario.

"Anyway, as I was saying, the burns should go away within the next few days. You can pass them off as sunburn if you need to." The doctor turned to look at her. "You seem like you're just fine. As soon as you feel like you can stand, you can get dressed." She pointed to the small closet right behind her. "You'll find your clothes safely tucked away in there."

Hope nodded. As soon as the doctor had left the room, she flung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand up. Immediately, the dizziness came back. She ignored it this time. She wanted out of whatever this place was fast.

Her memory was starting to come back. She had come here to get the blocks off, thinking that if she had her whole mind about her then she should decide whether this whole Tyler relationship was the right thing to do. If it was good enough for her to risk everything for.

So, she knew her motivation and she kind of knew what had exactly happened to her under the knife. Now she just had to wait to see if it had worked.

True to the doc's word, she found the close she had worn to her little rendezvous in Paris folded up neatly in the closet. She couldn't throw that ugly white gown off any quicker.

Quickly she ran through the contents of her jeans pockets. Passport. Airport locker key. Small firearm. Yeah. It was all there. She was a minimalist when she was somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.

She grasped the key tightly in her hand and tucked the gun into the waist of her pants. No need to not be prepared for anything.

The hallways were empty. Hope thanked whoever had been in charge of having her wake up during what appeared to be a mini-siesta. She made her way to the elevator and patiently waited for the car to reach her floor. There was still no one around.

Maybe it's not one of those places where they don't want you to leave so they end up shooting at you frantically and with little to no aim. She shrugged her shoulders and stepped into the elevator as the doors slid open.

"I'm on the freaking sixty-third floor!" she whined as she saw all the buttons on the elevator. "Great. This is going to take forever."

Maybe she would end up getting shot at.

The elevator jolted as it passed each floor, and she could begin to feel her head ache. There was that nagging feeling the doctor had been talking about. She just had no idea why she was associating it with Tyler Vaughn. It seemed like she couldn't get him out of her head. Which wasn't exactly a new development, but it had never really been connected to the missing pieces of her life that damn implant had been blocking out.

Her mind suddenly flashed back to her childhood. She could see herself playing in her yard in San Antonio with a young boy. She was three. Then there was the time she went to the Pittsburgh Zoo and ended up dumping a whole cup of Slushie onto his head. She was four. There was the fort she had built with him in their backyard in Honolulu. She was five. That horrible accident with the skateboard, the neighborhood stray cat, and two peaches. She was about to turn six.

And then nothing. Or to be accurate, everything. Everything after that point she remembered clearly. Conning her parents into moving back to L.A. Her Aunt Nadia kidnapping her mother. Learning how to fight from Will. Joining a spy organization. Meeting Tyler.

Jesus. It always came back to him.

Something in the back of her head kept reminding her that it had all started with him, too. And she had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

Again, Tyler's name kept ringing through her head. Why was everything so caught up around him?

The elevator hit the bottom floor and jolted to a stop. And that was when it felt like there was a damn bursting in her head. Details came flooding back.

And suddenly it made sense.

Tyler Vaughn. The man she loved. The child she grew up with. The man who was going to either kill her or be killed.

She stared out into the busy lobby in front of her as the elevator doors slid open.

"Oh shit."


	26. The Chosen Two

She knew that she was making the right decision. One quick plane ride to Paris and this would all be over. She would just explain to him that he was just a little piece of fun on the side while things were slow in the spy world. He had entertained her, but she was bored now.

If she was hurtful enough, maybe he would believe it. Because she sure as hell didn't.

She hailed the first taxi she could find outside the airport and directed him to the Latin Quarter. She just hoped that Tyler was still staking out that building. Otherwise she was going to have to call in a few favors to get his location, and she didn't fancy having to come up with a reason why she needed to have the position of a CIA agent who had nothing to do with her current assignments.

Ignoring the hard decisions lying ahead of her when the driver took her to her final destination, she focused instead on another component to her current confusion. Why had the New Directorate wanted her to forget about growing up with Tyler? If she was such an important agent, wouldn't it be wise to make sure she remembered the man who could possibly kill her? You would think they'd want to protect her.

Then again, there wasn't much she knew about the New Directorate. She just knew a few contacts within her department and the tech guy. That was all the people she had to know to get her job done. She didn't even know who made the big calls.

"What is a pretty lady like you doing in the city of love all alone?" the cab driver suddenly asked in not-so-good English, looking at her in his rear view mirror.

She gave him a sweet smile before responding in French. "I'm here to break up with my boyfriend."

That shut the cab driver up. Good. She didn't need to make polite conversation at a time like this.

She tried to focus on the exact point where her life had gone so wrong. How had she ended up working for an agency that was doing potentially bad things and not the CIA like both her parents? Why had she let herself be sucked up into the organization while never thinking to ask questions about the people who ran it? When had she decided it was okay to let these people she did not know start putting things into her brain?

God, she could be a complete moron sometimes.

The cab pulled to a stop outside the building she had indicated. This was it. Thanking the driver and giving him a rather handsome tip in hopes he wouldn't remember this particular passenger and her destination, she stepped out of the car.

Walking into the building, it didn't take her long to find him. He was on the top floor staring out the window with a pair of binoculars. He wasn't kidding when he told her this stakeout thing was completely old school. She didn't even see any computers anywhere. How were you supposed to find out anything without them?

"The CIA is so stuck in the Dark Ages," she said, making her way across the creaky wooden floor to where he sat.

He put down the binoculars and stared at her a moment before hesitantly asking, "What are you doing here, Ana?"

"I didn't want to put off seeing you again." Silently, she applauded herself. That was a good opening. Now if only she could keep up that disaffected, detached tone. Maybe then she wouldn't start to cry.

"I'm glad you came," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her in between his legs where he sat on a wooden crate. "I missed you."

"Tyler, we need to talk."

"I know. I can't believe you actually took me up on my offer to spend the rest of my time here in Paris together. I thought you were going to get on that flight yesterday. Speaking of, where have you been if you didn't get on it? That was eighteen hours ago."

Eighteen hours. God, it felt like an eternity. "I've been busy." She tried to shrug out of his hold, but he wasn't letting up.

"Well, I'm glad you got un-busy." He looked up at her, and before she could stop herself, she was kissing him. It was their last kiss, a kiss goodbye, even if he didn't know it yet.

Before she could prepare herself to pull away from him and end their last embrace, he surprised her by doing so himself. "I have something I want to give you. I wasn't sure if I was going too fast or if you didn't feel the same way. But you're here. So I think that says enough."

She watched as he riffled through a knapsack that was at his feet. He looked so happy about whatever he was about to do that she couldn't bear to break his heart. Not at this moment. Maybe she would get the courage after he was done.

"Here," he said, holding out a small box for her to take.

Okay. She might be a moron when it cam to matters of the spy world and of her heart. But she knew what was in that box without even having to open it. This was not good.

"Tyler, there's something you have to know."

"Later." She watched in horror and in excitement as he opened the box himself.

There it was. The most beautiful ring she had ever seen in her life. It was prettier than the ring her father had given her mother. A good size diamond surrounded by two emeralds that seemed to be the most vibrant shade of green that she had ever seen.

She hadn't known a heart could melt and break at the same time.

"Tyler. We've only known each other for a month. We've only been on four dates."

"I don't care. You know when it's the one. And I know. I love you, Ana. I know this is going fast, but I don't want to sit around and wait for something to come along to tear us apart. Because eventually something will. If we make this commitment, then we'll have something to fight back with. And frankly I don't care give a damn about all the obstacles between us. We'll get through whatever gets thrown our way. Together. So just say yes and we can get started."

"I… I…" What was she trying to say? I want to with all my heart. You're crazy. There's no way I can. It's too fast. I would if only I wasn't destined to be your murderer or your victim one of these days. All of those were good options. But instead of any of those, she found herself simply shrugging and saying, "I just can't."

"Is this about your mother? Because you're nothing like her. I understand that."

Her look of horror obviously wasn't lost on him as his body suddenly tensed up a little more. "I am everything like my mother. She's the best person I've ever met. I have spent my whole life striving to be more like her."

Tyler shook his head. "I don't understand. Why would you want to be like her? She's done nothing but cause trouble for everyone you love, including me."

"She never did a thing to hurt you. Everything she did was for our own good. She gave up her whole life to make sure--" Hope paused in the middle of her rant as something occurred to her. "Wait. If you knew who my mother was, then why the hell did you get involved in this? Didn't you realize how big a mistake seeing me would be? At least I have the whole memory loss card to play. What's your excuse?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. All I know is that I love you no matter of your past mistakes or the current mistake you're trying to make. Do you hear me? I love you, Ana Santos."

Her hand flew to her mouth. Oh god. He didn't know. He thought she was… "You thought I was Nadia Santos's daughter?" she yelled. "How stupid can you be?"

Pieces were clicking into place. Tyler had mentioned that he grew up with her cousin. At the time, she had thought it funny that her Aunt Nadia had had a child and didn't tell anyone. Then there was the whole fact that he was so upset when he found out who he thought her mother was. He really must have been convinced that she was an evil agent if she was the offspring of someone like her aunt.

"If you're not Nadia's daughter, then who are you?" Tyler asked.

She suddenly noticed that he was still holding the ring box open in his hands. Slowly, she took it away from him and shut it before handing it back. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Tyler. Some of it I kept secret for your own good and some of it I didn't even know would affect you. Oh god. My parents are going to kill me."

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Well for starters, they think that I'm on vacation in the Belize. They don't know that I'm currently having a conversation with the one person I have been forbidden to see in the whole goddamn world."

"You're not making any sense."

"Nothing that involves you and I makes any sense." She sighed and composed herself for a moment before looking up at him. "My name is not Ana. I mean, not really."

"Okay. Aliases. I understand that."

"No, you don't. My real name is Hope Anastasia Lazarey."

She waited as the weight of her words sunk in. "No."

"Yes. Which is why I can't marry you. And why I can't even talk to you. It's too dangerous."

He kept shaking his head. "There's no way. I would know if you were Hope. I would know. There are so many people watching over me. Someone would have figured it out. You're just saying this to avoid owning up to your feelings for me."

"God, I wish that was the reason."

"I can't handle this."

She nodded. "I understand. Let's not keep talking about it then. I'm going to turn around and leave. Don't try to contact me. Don't even think about me. It's for the best." She gave him a small smile even though she knew he could see the tears forming in her eyes. It only hurt slightly when he immediately looked away from her.

And that's when it hit her.

This was really it. This was the end. There wasn't going to be any type of Hollywood movie ending to this mess.

She gathered up the last bit of courage she had and turned to make her way out of the building. All of the sudden she just wanted to be home with her parents. Things were easier when she didn't have to be strong.

She flagged down the nearest cab and, even though with all her being she wanted to give one last glance to that window on the top floor that she just knew Tyler was staring down at her from, she slid into the car. "Take me to the airport please."

"No problem," the cab driver said.

She stared at the buildings and roads flying past the window, leaving her near-fatal mistake behind her. She would have thought her mind would be racing in an attempt to figure out how she could have gotten so far off the path she thought her life was supposed to take. Instead, her mind was blank. Somewhere along the line, she had shut down.

The cab slid to a stop, and she noticed where they were for the first time. "This isn't the airport."

"You didn't specify which one. This is a small airfield that has private planes take off from its runways."

"And how the hell is that supposed to help me?"

The driver pointed to the plane sitting in front of him. "There's a woman on that plane that desperately wants to speak with you. That should help you."

Hope shook her head. It figures that on the worst day of her life, she would manage to get herself semi-abducted. And damnit if everyone in her life didn't think she was in the Caribbean.


	27. Life Goes On Kind Of

"Just get it done," Hope screamed into the phone before slamming it down. She was tired of working with such stupid peons. She had a job to do, and they always seemed to be getting in her way. She was being groomed to take over this organization one day soon, and she didn't want to show any sign of weakness. People couldn't just walk all over her.

Rubbing her hands through her hair, she sighed and contemplating whether she could escape from the office without anyone noticing.

"Trouble, darling?"

Hope turned to smile at her aunt who hovered in the doorway and shrugged. "Two of our agents are being real pains-in-my-ass. They think that my orders are flexible. They're fairly new."

Nadia laughed and sat down in the chair next to Hope's desk. "Then it will be no problem to kill them. New agents are easily replaced."

"Ha ha. Very funny." She threw the pen in her hand down onto the desk and leaned back in her chair. "So what brings the big boss down to my humble abode? I haven't done anything wrong in the past few days to necessitate a visit."

"Your mother's trying to rescue you again, Hope. She is relentless in her search to win you back."

"She has the right to try."

"You don't want to be rescued?"

Hope shrugged. "The past couple years with you have been the easiest ones of my whole life. No stupid prophecy to worry about. No people to avoid because they could possibly kill me in some vague, distant future. I just wake up in the morning, do my job, go to sleep, repeat. It's refreshing."

"You know this all would be a hell of a lot easier if you didn't insist upon writing your parents once a week," Nadia said with a smile.

"I'm not going to write them out of my life. You should understand how important it is to keep your family close to you. You never had a family, and look how you turned out."

"Very funny," Nadia said, rolling her eyes and standing up. "If you weren't my niece, I would personally see you dead for a comment like that."

"I'm your protégé, too."

"A choice I regret at least once an hour."

Hope shook her head. "I still have no idea how you convinced me to work with you."

"You were nursing a pretty horrible broken heart, kiddo. I just offered you a place to get away for a few months. You're the one that chose to stay."

Hope nodded. She really had only intended to take her Aunt Nadia's offer of escape for a few months until the pain of cutting Tyler Vaughn out of her life got better. It wasn't like she was oblivious to the fact that Nadia showing up on that plane two years before meant that she had broken out of CIA custody. But the offer had been so tempting.

Nadia would be living a fairly quiet life for the first few months of her newly-acquired freedom. Hope figured she could just stay with her, and then when the pain got better, she would go back and tell her parents what a horribly, stupid mistake she had made. Actually, it was more like a series of horribly stupid mistakes starting with the acceptance of that shady telephone offer of employment and ending with her failing in love with the man whose only destiny seemed to be kill or be killed when it came to her.

The pain hadn't gone away, though. So she postponed her return for a few more weeks. Those weeks stretched into months which stretched into years.

Now she was settled in and didn't want to leave. Nadia might have been going about things in the wrong way, but her heart seemed to be in the right place. Hope could sense that.

And she really had no idea how her parents would handle her sudden return.

"I've got an itch, Nadia."

"Oh, the itch. God! Doesn't it feel good?"

"Not an itch to kill," Hope said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh. Then what kind of itch?"

"The kind that should have those two newbies shaking in their points." Hope gave her a wink as she stood up and walked out of the room with a cocky grin plastered across her face.

"She has become hell on wheels," Nadia said with a laugh. She reached across the desk to pick up the phone. "Conners, I need you to stop my sister's little inquiries into our business. I'm tired of having to hide Hope from her. And make sure you dispose of those stupid letters she writes her father better. I think she might start to realize that they're not getting sent out. Take them back to your room and burn them for all I care. Just don't let her know about it!"

Nadia sighed and sat back in the chair. It was so hard being evil.

* * *

"I'm getting too old for this," Sydney grumbled quietly to the man walking next to her as they made their way up to the twenty-ninth floor.

"This is the best lead we've had on our daughter in two years, Syd."

"I know." She smiled demurely as a few people passed them by. "I still don't want to believe my sister did this."

"She definitely got her father's genes."

"I could kill Sloane for still screwing up my life even when he's been dead for years. The bastard's hurting me from the grave."

Sark squeezed his wife's arm lightly and pointed towards a room on their left. "Take a deep breath. We've already made it so far. We found out that Hope's been working for some shady organization."

"Which begs me to wonder for the millionth time why we didn't see through her 'I work at a bank' cover. It was so simple."

"We both didn't think she could possibly be lying like you had done yourself in your first few years as a spy."

Sydney took a seat at the computer terminal and started typing away. "This system is way too easy to hack. It isn't Nadia's work."

"This is just a splinter cell with little to no contact with the big boss. It's not going to be that good. Security will be loose, but that means we don't have to shoot anyone. No shooting is always good."

"Got it!" Sydney yelled, thrusting her fist into the air in glee. "Nadia's been holding her in… oh god. She's in Mexico. That's so damn close."

"All right. We'll put in a call to Jack and Irina. With a little back-up on our side, we should have Hope back within the day."

"Do you think that Nadia's hurt her?"

Sark gave her a sad smile but shook his head. "No. Your sister might have her priorities slightly skewed, but she's not a bad person. Hope's blood to her. Plus, I think keeping our daughter safe but out of your reach hurts more."

"Sometimes I find myself glad that Nadia took her. That maybe she's finally gotten a reprieve from the prophecy that's ruled her life. My psychotic sister has managed to give her the one thing I've always wanted her to have. And I know at least Hope's safe, I guess. "

"That's completely warped logic."

"You're right," Sydney said, popping a disk out of the terminal and storming out of the room. "I think I'll just kill her then."

"No, you're not," Sark whispered to himself, cleaning up the evidence that they were ever there. "But that's why I love you."

* * *

Tyler dropped his bags just inside the front door of his parent's house in Fiji. He hadn't been back here to see them or Jim in over a year. Sometimes it felt like every part of his life was just pointing out the mistakes he had made. Everything was so damned caught up in this prophecy.

"Is that you, Ty?" he heard his mother call from the kitchen.

"Yeah. My plane landed early. Something about a good wind out of the north."

Lauren walked into the hall and smiled at him. "You look good. The CIA's treating you well."

"Try to say it like you really mean it," Tyler said, rolling his eyes as he gave him mother a kiss on the cheek.

"You know that I always hated the idea of you following in our footsteps. You already have enough stress to deal with without worrying about going on missions."

"Mom, could we please not talk about that damn prophecy?"

"All right, all right." Lauren held up her hands. "No more prophecy talk."

"You started in already?" Michael Vaughn said with a laugh as he came in through the back door. "I thought I told you to play it cool so that he wouldn't run away screaming."

"I was trying, Michael. But he's my son. I'm worried about him especially with the new developments."

"New developments?" Tyler said, giving them a funny look. "What new developments? And why have I heard nothing of these new developments?"

"I thought you didn't want to talk about," Vaughn pointed out.

"I didn't want to talk about it if nothing had changed, but since you seem to think something has changed, then yes, I want to talk about it."

"Well, it's about Hope Lazarey."

Tyler tried to stay calm. He knew in talking about the prophecy, they would be spending a lot of time talking about Hope. Or Ana, as he still thought of her. "The woman that's supposed to kill me?"

"Or you could kill her," Lauren said. When both her son and her husband shot her a look, she shrugged. "I like to think positively even if it's slightly morbid and screwed up. Sue me for not wanting my only son to die."

Tyler let out a laugh. "So what's going on with Hope?"

"Well, she's dropped off the charts."

"What?" he felt himself practically yell. "What do you mean she's dropped off the charts?"

"About two years ago she was on vacation in Belize and she never came back. Everyone's been keeping it quiet."

Tyler suddenly remembered her cover story during the time she spent with him in Paris two years earlier. Oh god. She must have disappeared right after they broke it off. He tried to shut out his thoughts as he focused on what his parents were finally telling him. "Don't you think you should have included me? I could have done something to help."

Lauren gave him a funny look. "Her parents have been trying to locate her. That should be enough for now, honey."

"She's been gone for two years!" Tyler screamed. "She could be in danger as we speak, and no one seems to care."

Lauren and Vaughn exchanged a look out of the corners of their eyes. "Am I missing something?" Lauren asked finally.

Tyler let out a sigh and walked into the living, sitting on the edge of a chair and placing his hands in his head. His parents just let him sit there as they hovered around the door, wondering what had just happened to their son.

"Ty?" Vaughn said after a few minutes.

"I love her, Dad." He looked up and gave them a small smile. "I know you think I've been holding stuff back from you the past few years, and you've been right. Only it's not what you thought. I met a girl in the field. Her name was Ana. I fell in love with her. It was quick and hit me hard. I asked her to marry me."

"What?" Lauren screamed as she stomped into the room and took her own seat in a chair, head in hands.

"Like I said, it went fast."

"And why did we never meet this girl?"

"Because the day I proposed, she told me her name wasn't really Ana."

"Hope," Vaughn said with a laugh. "She must take after her mother with the good aliases."

"Don't joke right now," Lauren warned.

"She must have disappeared later that day. I should have known that she wouldn't just drop off the face of the earth completely."

"So you fell in love with the girl who's going to kill you?" Vaughn asked.

"Or that he's going to kill," Lauren said through her hands which were still securely covering her face.

"I did. And now she's in trouble." Tyler stood up. "Tell me how to get in contact with Sydney and Julian Lazarey. I'm going to help them find her."

Vaughn didn't say a word. He just grabbed a piece of paper off the coffee table and wrote down a number. "This is Syd's cell. Just call her and explain as best you can. She'll welcome your help."

"Don't you think they're going to be a little weary of mixing the two halves of the prophecy together?" Lauren asked as Tyler grabbed the paper out of his father's hands.

"Syd's always loved playing with danger. That kind of thing never changes." Vaughn looked over at his son. "So I guess this means you're not going to be sticking around Fiji?"

"I have things to do. I promise to keep you up to date," Tyler said, shaking his head as he walked out of the room.

This life was getting to be a little too much with its twists and turns.


	28. Frightening Changes

_Author's Note: At the plea of one of my readers, I'm doing my best to finish this story up (even though my muse has left the building, so to speak). I'm going to try to force myself to write a little each day. Updates will be happening but they might be a little spread out._

* * *

Tyler Vaughn watched as the van he was riding in went through puddle after puddle. Water seemed to be coming in through all the open cracks and crevices of the hunk of junk the team had gotten as a ride. He sighed and looked at the people in the van around him. They were your typical CIA grunts. Usually just there to make sure the hotshot agent didn't get killed or anything.

It was rather funny, the idea of him being a hotshot agent.

Throughout training, all he had ever wanted to be was like his father. The agent that backed up everyone else. The one that made sure the job got done while others took the glory by doing high risk moves. He wanted to be the reliable guy who kept the others alive.

Didn't happen that way.

Over the past few months, he had been forced into being a slightly loose cannon. He had to be the one to perform all the crazy stunts that got things done, that kept people from being killed and put the precious artifacts in the hands of the good guys. It was only by drawing more attention to himself that he could truly do all the things that were necessary.

It was ironic when his coworkers joked about how much he was acting like one of the CIA's best agents, Sydney Bristow. If they only knew.

Tyler had been working with Sydney and her husband, Julian Lazarey, in order to find Hope. He had become a semi-double agent, if you wanted to get technical about it. Sydney's mother, Irina Derevko, had offered him temporary employment with her agency until Hope could be found. He accepted, knowing that he couldn't tell one soul at the CIA what he was doing. Because that would leave too many loose ends, too many ways that their efforts could go wrong.

So he had started getting himself put on missions that were in the same cities where Hope might be. Or, if she was gone already when he arrived, Tyler tried to weasel out information from any contact he could find about why Hope had been in that city.

Sydney and Sark had first pinpointed their daughter in Mexico, but that turned out to be a slight bust. By the time they got to the facility where they thought Hope was being held, it was deserted. Nadia had left behind a note to tauntingly let them know that it was Hope's decision to be with her aunt.

That information almost broke all of them.

The Hope they knew, or Ana in Tyler's case, would never chose to have a life like Nadia's. She knew that the things her aunt did were wrong. There was no way she would find the same pleasure and satisfaction from them.

Letting out another breath, Tyler turned back to stare out the window as the rain poured down.

Seattle. It was the next city on his list. There had been a rumor that there was a big drug corporation in the area that was dabbling in the creation of a new biological weapon. Two days earlier, the weapon had been completed, and the corporation was shopping for a buyer. It was the kind of thing Nadia Santos would never allow to happen without the corporation feeling her presence.

And since this weapon seemed to be the real thing, Nadia wouldn't just send in some goon to do the "negotiating". No. She would send someone important.

Tyler closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool glass. All he could was hope that this time they were right. Because something was horribly wrong with Hope if she was willingly working alongside her aunt. And she needed someone to find her before she slipped in too deep.

At the very least, he owed her that much.

Hope gave the man sitting across from her the best seductive grin she could muster. She hated having to turn on her sex appeal to get things done, but it looked like this guy wasn't budging. She had promised her aunt that she wouldn't return home without something to show for her trip. The past few missions Nadia had sent her on had resulted in the acquisition of absolutely nothing. Hope hated to fail.

"Mr. Daveros, I think we need to get down to business. My employer is interested in purchasing that little gadget you've been cooking up in your lab. Why don't we talk price?"

"I am not sure your employer is the type of person who I want to be entering into business with," the middle-aged man answered with a sly grin.

Hope narrowed her eyes. This guy was turning out to be kind of sleazy. It was her duty to knock that stupid greasy grin off his face. Reaching down, she pulled a disk out of her pocked and slid it across the table. "If you know what's good for you, you'll make those doubts disappear right quick."

"What is this?" he asked, picking up the disk.

"Proof that I haven't killed your family. Yet." Hope watched the man pale at her words. "Listen. I don't want to do it, but I will if you force me to. Take a minute before making up your mind. Go verify the information I've given you. Then you can come back in here and we'll get down to business."

Hope watched him fight to keep himself from bursting out in anger. Eventually, he must have felt the wisdom in her words because his chair screeched against the floor as he pushed himself away from the table. Giving her one last angry look, he excused himself and left the room to presumably figure out if she was telling the truth.

She almost wished it was a lie, but the proof of what she had done was right in front of her eyes. The black gloves she had put on before showing up to the meeting hid the blood that covered her left hand. Mrs. Daveros had gotten a little frisky when she was kidnapping them in Vancouver early that morning, and Hope had been forced to give her a nasty blow to the back of the head.

Hope shuddered at the memory, and the concept of kidnapper-victim relations that she had been taught in agent training suddenly came to the top of her mind. It was a phenomenon how if a kidnapper treated their hostages with politeness and respect, eventually the hostages started feeling their kidnapper's plight. They began to sympathize and even took actions to help the kidnapper achieve their goal. She had never understood that concept until now.

Working with her aunt in the beginning had constituted no worse deeds than she had done in her whole history as an agent. She had just been the overseer on a lot of operations. Her hands didn't even get dirty.

And then slowly but surely, she started taking a more active role. She started seeing the perspective that Nadia was coming from. She began to understand why this missions had to be completed, why these actions had to be taken.

She started to believe in what she was doing.

And the world had sucked her in and away from everything she had ever known and held dear.

Here she was. Without family or friends. Without backing by a legitimate government agency. Without the normal values and morals she had been raised on.

And most of the time, it didn't even feel wrong.

Hope was pulled away from her thoughts as Mr. Daveros entered the room again. He was holding a black case in his left hand. She had a feeling she knew what that was.

"How much is your employer offering?" Daveros asked as he stopped right beside her chair.

"Two million." Hope gestured to the case she had set down by her chair earlier in the meeting. "Up front."

"Fine. Whatever it takes for you to release my wife and children."

Hope stood up and took the case out of his hand. "That's very accommodating of you." She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small piece of paper. "The location of your family. It's been great. I'll be sure to let my employer know what a nice businessman you are."

"I never want to see your face nor any of your co-workers within a mile of my house or my business. Do you hear me?"

Hope nodded as she walked towards the exit. "Just stop making products my boss might want and I promise you'll never see me again."

She didn't pause in her steps until she heard the door click behind her and she was in the elevator heading to the ground floor. Her cell phone rang as soon as the elevator door slid shut. "How did you know that I was done?"

"I'm the head of this agency," Nadia said with a laugh. "I know everything."

"I got the bio weapon. I even saved you three million dollars."

"And that is why I sent you on this one. How did you get Daveros to crack?"

"I kidnapped his family and told him I would kill them if he didn't sell me the drug."

"You could have just taken it from him at no cost."

"I figured if we paid him he wouldn't be looking for revenge. Now he has his family back and a nice little nest egg to retire on."

"Your threat? What would you have done if he didn't sell you the drug?"

"That didn't happen."

"But what if it had?"

"I don't know. I probably would have just taken out everyone in the room and found where they were keeping the drug. It was confirmed to be in the building after all."

"You wouldn't have made good on your threat?"

"His wife and children were innocents. They don't even really know Daddy's job entails making biological weapons and selling them to the highest bidder."

Nadia sighed. "That's what makes you weak, Hope. I had really thought you would have grown out of having these pathetic feelings of remorse and guilt. They're the markings of a horribly inadequate agent."

"You wanted me to kill the family?"

"It would have been right to send him a message that it's not good to get in my way, Hope. If you were smart, you would have seen that." Hope felt a shiver course through her body as her aunt let out a small, restrained laugh. "Which is why I had to do it myself."

"Do what?"

"Send him a message. You did use the normal holding facilities at our complex in Detroit, didn't you?"

Horror dawned on Hope as she realized what had happened. "You killed the family."

"I did what you were too weak to do."

"I promised him his family would be safe now that he handed the drug over."

"Then he's in for a rather messy surprise when he goes to the address you gave him."

The call cut off abruptly as Nadia hung up on her niece. At that precise moment, the elevator reached its destination and let out a happy ding which caused Hope to fling her cell phone against the wall as hard as she could. Its shattering into pieces did nothing to help the rage or the guilt or the sudden urge to cry. All that and more was washing over her.

People stared at her, but it didn't really matter. She was already in control of her emotions. This was part of the game she had chosen to play. Actions had repercussions, and she could see why Nadia had done what she did.

It was the right move.

Nadia was correct in thinking that Hope just wasn't strong enough to make the call.

She should be grateful that her aunt was watching out for her.

Hope calmly walked through the lobby of Daveros Tech, trying to ignore the small voice in the back of her head that was screaming at her to wake up and realize she was being slowly brainwashed. She had more important things to do than start worrying about the decisions she had made. After all, she still had the newly acquired bio weapon. There was a drop-off that had to be done if she was going to finish her assignment.

Hope stood on top of the office building that was the meeting point Nadia had given her. True to form, it was pouring down rain, and Hope was already getting plenty pissed off at not having the foresight to bring some sort of umbrella with her. That would be the second mistake she made on this mission.

The first was showing her mark mercy in not killing his family. She had had plenty of time to think it over on the drive over. Daveros had not been the picture of cooperation, and that could not be tolerated in the world she lived in. Because if you met up with one second of trouble when the timing was off, you were dead.

The family had had to die. It was the only way to teach those watching that Hope Lazarey demanded their respect if not their fear.

Hope looked down as the band on her wrist beeped. The motion detectors she had set up in the stairwell were going off in a signal that her contact was on his way up to meet her. A sense of relief and accomplishment washed over her, and it suddenly dawned on her how easy her life had become. For years, she had been living in the grey zone. Now things were black and white.

Being able to take things at face value even if they made her cringe at times kept her from thinking about all the parts of her life she was willing leaving behind. She missed her family like crazy, but it wasn't like they had really tried to find her. Because she wasn't hiding out. In fact, she kept purposefully putting herself in the spotlight.

But still no one ever showed up.

She heard her contact step out onto the roof and was about to turn to face him when her heart suddenly froze at the sound of his voice.

"Hello, Ana. Or are you going by Hope again these days?" Tyler said, stepping out into the rain.

No one from her old life had ever showed up to find her.

Until now, that is.


	29. Prophecy

Hope squinted through the rain to stare at the man in front of her. "What do you think you're doing, Tyler?"

"I have been trying to find you for two years, Hope," he said taking a step towards her.

Hope's heart jumped at the idea that Tyler might actually have cared enough to try to find her when she went mission, but her rationality immediately took over. She had left him high and dry, broken his heart and dropped him like he meant nothing to her. Which meant he was lying. Nothing new when push came to shove. Tired of the people in her life abusing her, she felt she had no choice but to pull out her gun and aim it at his heart. "Do you actually think I'm going to believe that? If you had wanted to find me, it wouldn't have taken you two years. I have not been holed up in some remote outpost in Timbuktu."

Tyler stopped in his tracks and held his hands up. He wasn't surprised that she was leery of him. Obviously something had gone down that kept her away from her family for two years. With the world they lived in, she had probably gone through extensive brainwashing or something. He watched as her gaze fell from his face to the small black case sitting down by her feet, and things began to add up. "You think I'm here for the biological weapon?"

"Aren't you? I knew the CIA would send someone to try to take this away from me. Just never figured it would be you." Her voice faltered slightly at the end, and she let out a small laugh to cover it up. "You don't understand that I can't give this to you. I can't trust that it will stay in the right hands."

"You don't think the CIA is trustworthy? Your parents work for the CIA."

"I haven't talked to my parents in two years," Hope yelled. "Why would bringing them into this change anything?"

"What did she do to you?" Tyler said, staring at her with a mixture of surprise and disgust in his eyes.

"My Aunt Nadia, if that is the _she _you're referring to, did nothing to me. My parents, however? They haven't tried to speak to me for two years, Tyler. All trust I ever had for them went out the window when I started realizing they abandoned me. It was as clear as day. They found out the mess I had gotten myself into, and they abandoned me. And before you start thinking about doing something stupid, I'm just as good of an agent as you remember. This talking isn't distracting me one bit."

"That would be good to know if trying to distract was number one on my list instead of trying to get you to see reason and put down the damn gun."

"All right then, Tyler. I'll give you your shot. Convince me."

"You've got it all wrong about me and about your parents. They had been searching alongside me the whole time you've been missing. They've devoted every hour of every day to figuring out where Nadia Santos took you. We've been trying to get you back this whole time."

"Not good enough," she said, shaking her head. "You've given me no reason to believe you. I would have known if you were trying to find me."

Tyler sighed. "This would be so much easier if you would just put down the gun? I'm not here to fight."

"Yes, you are," Hope said, even though she did slide the gun back into the holster at her side. "You just don't realize it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Hope took a deep breath and knew that in two seconds she was going to have to make a decision. She had felt this moment coming for two years. God. She didn't want to have to do this.

"Answer me, Hope."

Tyler's demand brought her away from her thoughts and back to the here and now. Glaring at him, she made her decision and held her hands up to gesture all around. "Don't you see? This is it, Tyler. This is the moment."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You can't have forgotten the prophecy. It's the only reason why I left you that day in Paris. It's the only reason my family seems to have disowned me. I don't make good decisions and because of that, one of us has to die."

"You're not even making sense," Tyler yelled through the rain as he started inching towards her again.

"It all makes too much sense." She swept the water out of her eyes and sent him a pleading look. "I knew the next time I saw you that our time would run out. We've been putting this off for years."

"I am not going to fight you, Hope."

"Then you're going to be the one to die." Without warning, Hope reached out with her right fist and connected with his jaw. His feet tried to get purchase on the wet cement roof, but there was just too much rain. Tyler ended up in a heap at her feet. "This won't work unless you fight back."

Hope grabbed Tyler by the collar of his jacket, lifting him up a few inches before using her fist to push him back down. She tried to blank out the memory of what she was doing even as it was happening. This was a day she had been scared of since forever, and she just wanted it to be over with. Things would be easier if this was just all over.

Tyler kicked his leg out to meet the back of her knee, and she found herself face down on the wet ground next to him. He rolled so that he had her arms pinned to the cold ground. "Why are you doing this?" Tyler hissed.

"Because you can't escape destiny," she yelled into his face before lunging forward to butt her head straight into his noise. There was a small crack, and Tyler immediately knew she had broken it. He pushed the blood away from where it was trickling into his mouth and pulled himself to his feet.

"I am not going to fight you to the death just because some ancient Italian man said that's what I should do."

"He's not the one in charge of this."

"Then who is?"

Hope could feel the tears begin to fall down her cheek and was suddenly very glad that the rain wasn't letting up. "We're in charge of it. It's our responsibility, our burden."

Tyler shook his head and took a step closer to her, holding his arms wide open. "I love you, Hope. I never stopped. So if you think killing me will help you fix whatever's broken inside of you, then do it. I don't care."

His words made her heart break in two. She had had a feeling that nothing between them had changed in all the time they had been apart.

At any rate when it came to their feelings for one another, nothing had changed. Everything else had shifted away from the norm a long time ago. Practically since her birth, Hope had learned to make the hard choices. This was just another choice like all the others. At least that's what she kept telling herself.

The only problem was this particular hard choice was forcing her to kill the man she loved. And he sure as hell wasn't making it easy by just standing there like an open target. Hope willed her hand to stop shaking as she reached into the holster at her side and pulled out the gun, pointing it at Tyler again. "You would just let me shoot you?"

"If it's really something you think you could do, then yeah."

"You don't know the kind of person I am, Tyler."

"You're not a monster."

"Actually, I think I've slowly become one, but to stay on point, that's not the part of me you have to worry about." She clicked the safety off. "My compassion is what kills in the end."

"As long as it's you pulling that trigger, I can accept it. I knew from the moment I found out you were the one in the prophecy with me that it would come down to this. And I knew that in the end I was going to be the one to die."

The sides of his mouth quipped up in the tiny start of a smile as he gave his shoulders a small shrug.

That little movement was what finally made the dam break inside of her. She had been holding so much inside, compartmentalizing it, that she didn't know which way was up or down. Her mind shifted to the day in Paris when she had stepped onto a plane and changed her life.

Nadia had told Hope she would protect her from every having to go through this hardship. She offered her niece a place she could stay where she would never have to see Tyler Vaughn again. It made sense in her head at the time. If Hope never saw Tyler, then the whole possibility of the prophecy coming true would be eliminated. That's all she ever wanted. She just wanted to be free.

Things had gone well for the first few months under her Aunt Nadia's care.

Then Hope started getting in a little too deep for her liking. She tried to pull out, tried to turn things back into what they had once been. That's when the subtle threats had started. Nadia definitely hadn't held a gun to her head and demanded she stay. In fact, Hope didn't even realize she was being manipulated with small comments on the side until it was too late.

Only a few weeks earlier, she had finally pieced it together. Nadia had been slowly but surely threatening everyone Hope loved. It was a small slip here like Nadia absentmindedly wondering if Will Tippin's children were doing well. It was a random piece of intel coming across her desk informing the organization that it would be really easy to get through the CIA security to eliminate CIA Director Jack Bristow.

Then, six days ago, Hope had faltered on a mission causing Nadia's organization to take a massive hit. Her aunt had walked right up to her desk and laid it all out. Nadia told Hope if she kept screwing up, then she would make sure that Hope encountered Tyler in the field. On that day, Nadia assured her that there would be agents with their guns trained on Nadia's parents, her grandparents, people she cared about like Will and Amy Tippin and their families. They would die if she couldn't be strong.

Hope had looked right at her and said that doesn't give Tyler a motivation to kill her. Nadia had simply laughed and told her not to worry about that. Lauren and Michael Vaughn and Agent Jim Lennox would be under watch by her men, too. Whoever let themselves be killed could look forward to spending eternity with their family. Nadia would make sure of that.

All this exploded into her mind at once and Hope felt all her strength, all her resolve, drain out of her. Her grip on the gun faltered and she slid to the ground. The rain was still falling hard, but it was no longer enough to mask her tears.

"What's happening?" Tyler asked, kneeling down beside her. "What is going on that you're not telling me?"

"We have to do this," she whispered. "There's no other way to make it stop."

"Make what stop?"

"The pain," she said, reaching out to grab the gun again. "It's the only way that this pain can end."

Tyler stared in confusion as she reached her hand forward and offered him the gun. He tentatively took it, hoping that she wasn't asking him to do what he thought she was. "The CIA will be lenient on you since you're giving up."

Hope shook her head and bit her lip as the nervousness kicked in. She knew he was going to make her spell it out. "I'm not surrendering, Tyler, and you know it."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I'm asking you to end my pain. I can't take it anymore. This is the only solution we have left."

"I'm not going to shoot you."

"If I shoot myself, it won't end. You have to be the one," she pleaded. "Please. You said you loved me. Prove it."

"We're not some modern-day Romeo and Juliet. Killing is not a sign of love."

Hope decided it was time to use her ace in the hole motivator. "Our families will die if you don't. Nadia will kill them all if one of us is not left behind on this roof tonight."

"She doesn't have the power."

Hope shook her head while a slightly mocking laugh escaped her lips. "Oh, she has the power. And she'll do it, too. So we don't have a way around this."

"Hope, our families are both comprised of the best spies in the business. They are not just going to sit back and let themselves be killed. Nadia's been feeding you a pack of lies if she said she was capable of that."

"You don't understand," Hope insisted.

"I think I do. You aren't the only one that Nadia's been threatening."

"What?"

"I've been receiving threats from her for two years. Ever since the day you disappeared, she's been warning me to drop the search for you, to give up. She told me she would kill my family, my friends, anyone I've ever loved." Tyler let out a laugh. "I told her to go to hell."

"That was stupid."

"I'm not about to let anyone have control of my life. Not some ex-Argentinean spy and not some old Italian philosopher." Tyler looked down at the gun before clicking the clip out of it. He held it up for Hope to see before flinging it away. It skidded to a stop along the wet pavement on the other half of the rooftop. "Neither one of us is going to die tonight."

"We can't escape fate."

"But we can change it."

Hope looked at him in confusion as he stood up and offered his hand. "I don't understand."

Tyler pulled her to her feet beside him and smiled. "Rambaldi didn't count on us falling in love. He couldn't even predict that."

"You think that because we feel in love the prophecy's null and void now?" She shook her head. "You're an idiot."

"A correct idiot. You and I fell in love. There is no way we're going to kill each other voluntarily. The only thing that leaves is an accident, and that doesn't sound like such a bad way to go."

"You've thought this out," Hope noted.

"I've had two years to figure out what I could say to get you to come back to me. I figured that you'd bring up the prophecy at some points so I had to come up with a way around it. Did it work?"

"Well I'm not running to pick up the bullets."

"Good," he said. His hands slid down to grab her waist and pull her in close to me. "So."

"So?"

"Do you think you'll marry me now?" Tyler asked as he leaned down to brush a kiss across where her neck met her shoulder. He could feel her shiver against him and shifted up to press his lips against hers. The rain had soaked them through, and at the moment, he didn't even care.

Hope laughed against the pressure of his mouth and pushed him lightly away. "You didn't even wait for my answer, Tyler."

"You don't really have to say it. You didn't kill me. I'm pretty sure in the spy world that can be interpreted as a yes."

"What about Nadia?"

"You give me some insider information, I'm sure there are plenty of people who would love to go out on a mission to pick her up."

"And she won't see it coming?"

"Well, she thinks you and I are fighting to the death right now. That's got to take a few hours at least. She won't be expecting it."

"You really thought of everything."

"Couldn't let you weasel your way out of this again," he said, quirking his eyebrow at her. "You do have a habit of doing that. And lying. You lie a lot, too."

"I promise I'll stop."

"No you won't." He slipped his hand down into hers and began to pull her towards the door to the stairwell. "But I don't really mind. It kept my mind off the fact that I was doomed since birth."

"Not anymore," Hope said, leaning against his arm as he slid it around her shoulders.


	30. Epilogue

Hope Vaughn stood amidst her family as the sun shined down upon them. She sat down on the ground and rested her hand on the gravestone nearby as she watched the beautiful sight in front of her. Her two daughters were talking with their Uncle Will. Her son was playing with his own children in the open grassy space, and she laughed as she heard Lauren yell for them to be careful. Her eyes scanned across the horizon until they fell upon her parents as they silently held hands in front of the grave of her grandparents. Jack and Irina had been gone for over twenty years, but it still hurt. They would have loved to see the way their family had grown over the years.

Smiling she looked down at the bouquet of flowers in her hand. "Well, we did it, Ty. We proved that stuffy Italian philosopher wrong for all those years, didn't we?" She set the flowers down to rest against the gravestone. "We had forty good years that no one ever thought we could have."

"Grandma Hope?"

Hope looked up to see the smile of her great-granddaughter Isabel staring back at her. She patted the ground next to her, and the little girl sat down. "What's the matter, honey?" Hope asked, reaching out to grasp Isabel's hand.

"Do you miss Grandpa Tyler?"

"As much as I did when he died a year ago, sweetheart. But I'm also grateful that I had so much time with him."

That seemed to satisfy the little girl as she bounced to her feet, presumably to go play with her uncles.

The sun lit up the inscription on the gravestone.

__

Love can conquer all as long as there is hope to share.


End file.
